


our eyes are covered by night

by edibleflowers



Series: do not go gentle [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Blowjobs, Chapter 9 Spoilers, Friends to Lovers, Frottage, Frustration, Kissing, M/M, Mental Torture, Mutual Pining, Nudity, Teasing, chapter 13 spoilers, physical imprisonment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-19
Updated: 2017-01-28
Packaged: 2018-09-18 12:36:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 29,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9385487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/edibleflowers/pseuds/edibleflowers
Summary: Prompto has a crush. He thinks he's being subtle about it.(aka the ongoing story of Prompto and Ignis and some light political drama in the background, nbd)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Of course this is another thing that was going to just be a silly little character study to figure out how Prompto/Ignis would work but I guess I don't do those anymore??? or something???? (idk I just blame lemniskate67 for everything)
> 
> So here's the deal. This keeps getting longer and more involved, and I don't usually post things that aren't done yet, but I can't keep it to myself any longer. So there probably won't be a regular posting schedule for this, once I get the first couple chapters out. If you can forgive me for that, I hope to make it worth your while.
> 
> Also, this is not related to "A Study in Frustration", but could be seen as running somewhat parallel to that. If you squint.

Before the road trip, Prompto had never spent much time with Ignis. He knew Noctis best, of course, since they'd spent four years of high school together (though he'd known _of_ Noctis long before, due to his inescapable status as Prince of Lucis). When Noctis insisted Prompto be part of his Crownsguard for the trip to Accordo, Prompto got to know Gladio, who trained him in the use of guns and various other weapons in order for Prompto to fill the role officially. While he wouldn't have called them close, he was at least relieved to have eventually earned Gladio's grudging respect.

Ignis, however, was still an enigma. (Ha. Ignis the Enigma. Enigma Ignis. Enigmis. Prompto cracked himself up sometimes.) He'd met with Prompto to arrange the measurement of, and later the fitting for, his official Crownsguard uniform. At the time, Ignis had struck Prompto as having something of a stick up his butt. He carried a notebook fluttering with colored sticky tabs, a separate day planner that held daily and weekly schedules down to the minute (seriously, who set up a meeting for 8:55 a.m.?!), _and_ a phone that went off every two minutes with texts or alerts. Or both.

It wasn't necessarily a bad thing, Prompto thought. Noctis was notoriously unorganized: _someone_ had to keep track of his schedule. And at least Ignis seemed unperturbed by having been elected the default driver for the trip.

Thing was, Prompto somehow ended up in the Regalia's passenger seat most of the time. (He suspected it was because Noctis had been summarily exiled to the back seat after constantly changing the music just when Ignis had found a station he liked.) Being in the passenger seat meant that, unless Noct was driving, Prompto suddenly had an up-close, personal view of Ignis all the time.

And the other thing was that Ignis was pretty hot. Really hot, actually. Like, still in a fussy, way-too-picky-about-everything kind of way, but still. He had these surprisingly vibrant aqua-green eyes (that seemed to always look out at the world through narrowed lids), a fine, straight nose, delicately formed lips – and then there were his hands. Long, slender fingers, much like the rest of him: so often were they covered by those driving gloves that after a long day of travel, Prompto began to look forward to seeing Ignis peel them off.

(The real reason Prompto preferred to stay in a hotel was because he could get at least a modicum of privacy to jerk off while thinking about Ignis's hands. And mouth. And _thighs_ , holy fuck. The worst was when he was next to Ignis in the tent. It took forever for him to fall asleep, lying there _feeling_ Ignis breathing.)

He thought he'd be all right, anyway, in the long run. They'd get to Altissia somehow -- since the news of the King's death and Insomnia's occupation, they'd been forced to seek alternate options, which meant a lot of bounty-hunting and helping out locals while waiting to hear from Cor about an alternate route to the place where Noct would finally be reunited with Lunafreya -- and then... Prompto didn't know what. They'd come home, maybe, figure out a way to boot the Empire out of Lucis and retake their home. And Prompto would go back to his normal life, get his degree in photography and open a studio like he'd always wanted to. He'd only see Ignis when he went to hang out at the castle with Noct and Luna, and this stupid infatuation would go away.

* * *

For a while, he honestly thought he could get away with just... not being near Ignis. Of course, he couldn't avoid him in the car, but he could take pictures, or stare out at the scenery, or turn and talk to Gladio and Noctis. Most of the time, fortunately, it wasn't as difficult. Sure, they shared a tent if they camped, but he could set up his sleeping bag on the far side of the tent and get the others between them. When they were out doing something, he'd just circle wide, or put himself on the far side of the field if they ran into trouble.

Every now and then they'd rent chocobos to get from one place to another, and that was the best. Riding meant he had to focus on the bird, on steering and controlling it and not letting it get too far ahead of (or behind) the others, on not letting it get distracted by something shiny. 

It couldn't last forever, and he knew that. But he thought he'd be able to manage it with at least _some_ degree of subtlety before anyone noticed anything weird.

So, of course, someone noticed.

* * *

"We need to talk," Ignis said.

Prompto stood up from the chair where he'd been thumbing lazily at a game on his phone. "What? Wait--" The hotel room door was already closing behind, he saw too late, a retreating Gladio and Noctis. "I was gonna go with them," he said, helpless, taking a step to the door. Ignis sidestepped, blocked his path.

"I asked them to leave," he said, absently nudging his glasses back up the bridge of his nose with his thumb and pinkie finger. "It'll only take a moment, if you don't mind."

"Oh. Uh, OK." Prompto stepped back again, covering the nervous gesture by turning to set his phone down on a side table. "What's up?"

"You've been avoiding me lately." Ignis's arms folded across his chest. 

Prompto swallowed, a sudden cold sweat breaking out in his palms. "What? No way, that's ridiculous. Why would I do that? _How_?"

"It's a little difficult to miss, when there's only the four of us traveling together." Ignis shook his head briefly, letting out a short sigh. "You hardly talk to me when we're in the car; most of the time you're turned around talking to Gladio and Noct. Even in battle, you're usually on the opposite side of the field from me--"

"Yeah, I'm the gun guy, dude. I can't exactly fight up close the way _you_ can." Prompto stuck his hands in his pockets, trying not to twitch too much. No, wait: he twitched all the time. It'd look more out of character if he didn't. He took his hands back out, tapping a boot on the carpet.

"You flat-out refused to accompany me to the market this morning."

Prompto shifted uneasily. "I didn't feel like going. Didn't know that was a crime."

"Tell me, Prompto. Have I done something to offend you?" Ignis's tone was becoming shorter, clipped. 

"Of course not. Jeez." Prompto didn't know what to do with his hands. Or with the rest of himself, for that matter. He moved over to the window, picked up his camera from the sill, fiddled with the lens. "You're fine. We're fine. Everything's fine."

Ignis didn't respond at first. Prompto glanced over, saw that Ignis had gone thoughtful, fingers cupping his chin. He bit his lip. If Ignis had noticed, then the others probably had, too. He could say something now, maybe get it out in the open and clear the air, or make everyone uncomfortable for the rest of the trip. Maybe he could change places with Gladio in the car if it was weird for a while.

"If you're sure everything is all right," Ignis said, and began to turn to the door.

"I like you," Prompto blurted out.

Ignis stopped in place.

"You-- what?" he said, as if he hadn't heard.

Heat rushed to Prompto's face, so much so he thought he could _see_ the glow from his cheeks. He swallowed hard. "I like you," he said. "And I'm sorry, and, and I'm an idiot, I know, but that's why I've been avoiding you. I didn't want to put this on you, and, and you can go if you want to, I'll ride in the back of the Regalia instead of Gladio from now on." He dropped his head, eyes closed and lower lip caught in his teeth, waiting for the kind word, the dismissive comment, or just the sound of the door opening and closing. Whatever Ignis decided to do would be entirely justified.

He heard a footstep, then another. _Just go_ , he tried to plead telepathically at Ignis. _Let me die here with my shame_.

Instead, a hand came to rest on his shoulder. He couldn't suppress an inhalation of surprise, even as he lifted his head to see Ignis right there, closer to him than he'd been in days. At this proximity, Ignis's eyes were a deeper green than Prompto had thought, even through the lenses of his glasses, and Prompto had to lift his own eyes to see them clearly. Ignis looked confused, to say the least; beyond that, though, Prompto thought he might be... smiling? A little bit?

_What_?

"I'm glad you said something." Ignis's voice had gone deeper than normal. "Saved me the trouble of working up the nerve myself."

"Wha--" Prompto started to say. Before he could get the word out, it was cut off by the heat of Ignis's lips on his. His startlement lasted a moment, no more, before he fumbled the camera back to the windowsill, freeing up his hands to slide them up Ignis's chest, under the lapels of his jacket.

Ignis pulled back, his eyes gone dark, lids lowered as he searched Prompto's for a reaction. He had really pretty eyelashes, too, Prompto thought. "You -- you're not stopping now, are you?" Prompto blurted, and Ignis laughed.

"I'm only getting started," he murmured, tipping his head again. Prompto grinned as he leaned up to meet the kiss, all eagerness this time.

* * *

They'd made it to the closest bed, shirts off (or in Ignis's case, shirt gloriously unbuttoned to reveal a frankly gorgeous chest), when Ignis sat up suddenly. "Wait," he said.

Prompto blinked dazedly up at him, one hand still curved at the back of Ignis's hair. "What? No, no, no wait, no."

"No, no." Ignis shook his head, sitting up on his knees, his smile wry but firm. He ran a hand over his hair, half-mussed up already, and began buttoning his shirt again with neat, quick gestures. "No, we can't just do... whatever this is."

Prompto stared, confusion overtaking the hunger in his eyes, dismayed to see the shirt going back _on_ after he'd worked so hard to take it _off_. "You're stopping. Why is there stopping?" He pushed up, too, one hand propping himself upright, the other reaching for Ignis again.

"Because I like you, Prompto." Ignis had stopped making any kind of sense. Worse, he was getting _up_ and moving _away_ and-- Prompto pushed to the edge of the bed and swung his legs off, keenly aware of the stiff erection in his jeans. "And I want to do this right."

"I thought we were," Prompto pouted.

Somehow, Ignis laughed at that. He thought this was _funny_? Man, did Prompto have weird taste in guys. "We are. And we will. But I want more than a quick tumble, Prompto. Don't you?" Ignis was reaching for his jacket, now, where he'd shed it to the floor in his haste, shaking it out and making sure it wasn't all wrinkled.

He didn't want to admit it, but he supposed Ignis had a point. "I _guess_ ," he said, and resisted the urge to kick a foot against the edge of the bedframe like a sullen child.

Ignis's face softened, and he folded the jacket and then sat down next to Prompto again, reaching for his hand. "This is all happening rather fast," he said. "And while I'm not unhappy at all, I need some time to wrap my head around it. It's because I have feelings for you that I want to take it slow and make sure we're both where we want to be."

"You don't have to explain it." Prompto let his fingers thread between Ignis's, looking down at their hands. Ignis wasn't wearing the driving gloves; his hands were strong, calloused from the use of his daggers, but slender and aristocratic too. "I mean, you're right, I'm right there with you. Just." He managed a half-smile. "Thinkin' I was finally gonna get some, you know?"

Ignis inhaled, and Prompto bit his lip, seeing the arousal still high in his friend's face. "I feel the same way, trust me."

"So we should go out. Do something. Maybe..." Prompto glanced at the window. Outside, the bright blue of Lestallum's sky was just beginning to deepen into a deeper azure, streaked with the reds and golds of approaching sunset. "Dinner?" He looked back at Ignis with a hopeful smile.

"Dinner sounds ideal." Ignis stood, letting go of Prompto's hand long enough to slide his jacket back on, and then held out his hand again. "Shall we?"

_This can't be happening_ , Prompto thought. He tugged his own shirt back on, then reached for Ignis's hand. "All right!"


	2. Chapter 2

Prompto really didn't want to run into Noctis or Gladio tonight. Even though he had little doubt their friends would catch on in no time to the abrupt change of attitude between him and Ignis, they could keep it between themselves for at least tonight.

Fortunately, on one of his early explorations of Lestallum when they'd first arrived here, he'd wandered well off the beaten path and away from the more touristy areas of the city to find an entire area that seemed to have gone overlooked by all but locals. He nudged Ignis in that direction now as they walked. After a block or so, he dared to reach for Ignis's hand. A swell of happiness rose in his chest when Ignis took his hand without an apparent second thought.

Turning a corner and ducking through a narrow alley opening, Prompto led Ignis out onto a broad terrace overlooking a great gulf, across from which stood Lestallum's power plant. Gigantic spikes of blue crystal shot out from the cliff face at their feet; the fading sunlight dove deep into each sapphire finger, revealing shafts of iridescence from every angle.

"This is quite the view," Ignis said, moving to the railing for a better look. His profile was clean, strong against the sunset; Prompto instantly regretted not bringing his camera.

"I know, right?" he said instead, coming up next to Ignis. "I found it kinda by accident last time we were here. There's a restaurant--" He pointed further down the brick-paved terrace, past a series of quaint shops and boutiques lining the eastern side of the space, to the place he'd noted previously. "It sounded really good. I thought maybe we could--?"

Ignis smiled, nodded. "Certainly we can."

* * *

He'd noticed the way Ignis took his time eating in the past -- mostly only because, out of the four of them, Ignis ate the slowest.

"I like to enjoy my food rather than inhale it," he'd said, a mite stiffly, when Gladio gave him a hard time about it. Prompto had felt a little guilty about being annoyed at Ignis's slow eating habits after that.

Now, he was glad Ignis took his time. They'd been seated on the restaurant's balcony, overlooking the gorge and the power plant, which glowed enough to light up the evening sky as the sun went down. The place wasn't too busy, which was fine by Prompto; he was still enjoying their relative privacy, and it let him watch Ignis as he ate.

"You know what's funny," he said, after they'd ordered (and Ignis had chosen a wine with a virtually unpronounceable name). "I still don't really know that much about you."

Ignis tipped his head, thoughtful for a moment. "I suppose that's true. We didn't exactly spend much time getting to know one another prior to leaving Insomnia."

"Or much time together at all. Aside from, like, when we all went over to Noct's to help him move out." Prompto swallowed at the sudden memory. It wasn't even that long ago -- a couple of months at most -- and yet so much had changed since then.

Ignis made a little sound like a snort. "You mean you and Noct played video games while Gladio and I packed."

"We helped!" Prompto protested, indignant. Ignis chuckled, and he subsided with a rueful smile. Fortunately, the waiter returned just then with glasses of water and the wine Ignis had selected. There was a whole process there: Ignis inspected the label, the waiter uncorked the bottle and poured a thimbleful for Ignis to taste. Finally, he poured for both of them -- less than half a glass each, but Prompto supposed that was how one drank the stuff -- and set the bottle down in its silver bucket before departing again.

"Wow," Prompto said, when he'd gone at last.

"Hm?" Ignis glanced up, an eyebrow raised, as he reached for his wine glass.

"Just. That was so involved. I don't ever even think I've _had_ wine before." Prompto let his arm rest on the table, just enough so that his fingers could curl around the stem of the glass.

"It's one of the things I've had to learn in my training as royal advisor, that's all," Ignis said. "It might seem glamorous, but I rarely get to indulge."

"Wait," Prompto said slowly. "You're... not just doing this to impress me, are you?"

Ignis glanced away, suddenly silent; even in the dim light, Prompto could see a hint of a blush across his cheeks. Prompto grinned to himself as the waiter returned with their appetizers.

* * *

By the time they'd finished the last bites of a shared dessert (some sort of apple tart thing with sweet cream; Ignis said it was a galette, Prompto just called it delicious), Prompto was stuffed. He'd tried the wine -- a white, supposedly, though it looked golden to Prompto -- and ended up sticking to his water.

"I'm really sorry," he said again, as they left the restaurant. "I know it was expensive--"

"No, no." Ignis waved it off, glancing over at Prompto. He'd had two glasses, and his cheeks were the tiniest bit flushed from the alcohol now, rather than embarrassment. "You didn't like it. That's not your fault."

"It was just so sweet." Prompto looked down at his boots, at the neatly-interlocked bricks they were crossing. "I guess you have to have a taste for it."

"Not everything is to everyone's taste. Next time, I'll ask."

The idea that there would be a next time made something go warm in Prompto's chest. "Works for me." He hopped up on a concrete divider running alongside the street, separating it from a sidewalk that curved lower and away from their path. Balancing easily on the narrow ledge, he grinned down at Ignis.

After the heat of the day, the city was cool now, and its population took shameless advantage of that fact: crowds milled around open-air cafes and bars, different music pouring from each one. As they approached the central square with the fountain, Prompto perked up at the sound of live music, distinct from the rest in the bright tones of acoustic guitars and drums bouncing off the surrounding walls. Another crowd had gathered here, too, clapping along, some dancing to the upbeat rhythm.

"There's Gladio," Ignis said suddenly in Prompto's ear. "See?"

Prompto nodded. Gladio was toward the front of the crowd, dancing with a woman nearly his height. She had the toned, rangy build of a power plant worker. Nearby, Noctis watched them, his face oddly sullen. Prompt had a moment to consider that scenario before he felt something entirely distracting: Ignis's arms snaking around his waist, that lean body pressed to his from behind. Prompto sucked his lower lip into his mouth and brought his arms to rest on Ignis's, even as Ignis began to slowly sway, just a little, in time to the music.

"What if they see us?" he asked.

The music was loud, but somehow Ignis heard him. His mouth was warm on Prompto's ear as he replied. "Gladio's rather preoccupied, and I do believe our dear Noct is as well. But you're right, perhaps we should--"

"No," Prompto said, and tightened his hands on Ignis's wrists. "I like this."

He felt Ignis smile against his ear and knew he'd made the right choice.

* * *

Part of Prompto really hoped they'd make it back to the hotel room before Gladio or Noct. Another part knew full well that even if they did, they wouldn't get much time alone -- and if they did, they stood a much higher chance of being found out.

What he hadn't counted on was coming back to the room after the band's last song to find Gladio and Noct making out.

He was the first in the door, tugging on Ignis's hand to drag him in, but he froze just inside the doorway and let go of Ignis in the same moment, uttering a sound that might have been "Gyah!"

"What in the--" Ignis crowded in against him and then stopped, too, but it was too late. On the far bed (the one where he and Ignis had been kissing a few hours earlier, Prompto remembered all too well), Gladio was already sitting up, shock in his eyes and his mouth still open and wet. Belatedly, Noct struggled up after him, one hand stuck under Gladio's shirt.

"Uh," Gladio said.

Prompto started laughing. It was the only thing he could do.

* * *

On the road the following morning, Prompto began to debate whether the situation had improved or not. On one hand, he knew Ignis was into him, which was pretty freaking cool. And now he got to sit in the passenger seat without having to pretend he wasn't watching Ignis. He really liked that aspect, even if it was slowly turning into a new form of torture.

On the other hand, every time he turned around to talk to Gladio or Noct in the back seat, the two of them were holding hands, or staring into each others' eyes, or cuddling up together. Or kissing. The whole thing was a little revolting.

And yet: Prompto was a little jealous of them.

Last night had been a whole mess of awkward, what with coming into the room to find Gladio and Noct making out like a couple of teenagers. Gladio had been stammering -- _Gladio_ , who'd never exuded anything but self-confidence. Prompto didn't even know Gladio _could_ be less than one hundred percent sure of himself at all times. Noctis, meanwhile, had gone bright red and silent until Ignis gently asked him how long he'd had feelings for Gladio.

Noct had broken, then, babbling that he didn't know what was going to happen and Luna knew he only cared for her as a friend and-- At which point Gladio had taken Noct's hand and glared at the two of them as if daring them to say a word.

"Hey, I'm really happy for you guys," Prompto had said. What else _could_ he say? He'd known Noct had a crush on Gladio for the longest time, but he'd never expected him to actually act on it. And Noct had given him such a look of gratitude, Prompto didn't want to eclipse his happiness for even a moment by bringing up him and Ignis.

Which meant that they were going to have to wait for a good time to tell Gladio and Noct after all. And _that_ meant he had to keep his hands to himself, no matter how freaking hot Ignis looked while casually steering the Regalia through a sharp turn and then reaching for his canned coffee to take a sip.

He slumped back in his seat and reached for his phone instead. Then he began to grin to himself.

 _I want to kiss you right now_ , he sent in a private text to Ignis's phone.

Predictably, Ignis had the phone set to vibrate, but he _hmm_ ed in surprise when it went off in his front pocket. Prompto knew he wouldn't read it, not while he was driving. That was OK. He'd see it later.

Humming along with the radio, he started typing another message.


	3. Chapter 3

The evening found them tired and run-down after dealing with an incursion of sagahin along the river where Dino had sent them in search of a gemstone of some kind. Fortunately, nearby was a haven, and even more fortunate -- to Prompto's mind -- was the nearby fishing dock.

Noct had been complaining about how tired he was only minutes earlier; now, he was already glued to the spot, fitting a new line into the reel and pondering which lure to use. "We could set up camp?" Prompto offered, when it became clear Gladio didn't want to leave Noctis alone.

"You know what you're doing?" Gladio said, eyeing Prompto skeptically.

"Between the two of us, I'm sure we can manage," Ignis replied, and drew Prompto off before he could start an argument.

After so many nights of camping out, they'd evolved a routine for bringing out the equipment and setting it up. True, Prompto hadn't really watched Gladio set up the tent in the past, but Ignis had, and they managed to put it together without any major injury. After that, Prompto started the fire while Ignis set his cooking station to rights.

Prompto was putting the chairs out when he heard a sudden sound from Ignis: something like a sharp inhale, or a suppressed snort. Blinking, he looked over. In the encroaching darkness, Ignis's face was lit by the bright screen of his phone.

"Oh, you finally got my texts," Prompto said, as offhandedly as he could.

"You want to do _what_ ," Ignis said.

"It didn't autocorrect that, did it?" Pretending casualness, Prompto put down the last chair and strolled over to Ignis, peering at the phone. "Nope, that's right. I mean, unless you're not into that kind of thing--"

Ignis looked from the screen to Prompto, then, in a deliberate movement, turned off the texting app and put the phone down on his prep table. "You are... very distracting," he said, inhaling.

"That's good? I hope? Question mark?" Prompto gave Ignis a hopeful grin.

"I'm still not sure," Ignis said, but at least he had some kind of wry smile going on now as he turned fully to Prompto and curved a hand at his nape, tugging him in close for a kiss.

At _last_. Prompto felt as if he'd been waiting years for this, rather than most of a day. He pressed himself to Ignis, pliant and eager, thoughts already skipping five steps ahead: _how long will Noctis want to fish_ , followed by _maybe Gladio will distract him down there_ , with a heaping helping of _we could put the sleeping bags down and..._

Ignis's hands slipped inside Prompto's vest, smoothing around to the small of his back. Prompto made a helpless sound, bit at Ignis's lip, tried teasing his tongue along the seam of Ignis's mouth.

"You've done this before," Ignis murmured, and Prompto stilled suddenly, drawing back to blink up at Ignis. In the dark, he could barely make out the expression in Ignis's eyes.

"Uh. Yeah? That's... not a problem, is it?" Prompto's hands had found a resting place at Ignis's nape; now, he let them go limp, draped loosely over Ignis's shoulders. "I mean, it's not your first rodeo either?"

"No." Ignis made a sound of frustration, his hands coming up between them to curve at either side of Prompto's neck for a moment. "No, it's not, I just..." He tried to smile half-heartedly. "I was attempting a compliment there, without much success."

"Oh." Prompto bit his lip. Impulsively, he tipped his head up to kiss Ignis again, keeping it brief and sweet this time. "It's OK. I mean, you're really good at kissing, makes me want to know what else you're good at."

He felt Ignis smile against his lips, felt the gentle pressure as Ignis tilted and kissed him again. "And I want to know where you learned to do the things you texted me about. But not right now." He drew back, once again leaving Prompto confused and blinking -- until he heard the sound of Gladio's and Noctis's boots on the stone ramp that led up to the campground. "Later," Ignis murmured, and squeezed Prompto's hand before letting go.

Grumbling, Prompto adjusted his erection before turning to congratulate Noctis on the evening's catch.

* * *

After dinner, Gladio and Noctis curled up together on one side of the tent, which meant -- once they could hear the others breathing steady and slow -- Prompto could settle himself on Ignis and rest his head on Ignis's shoulder. Ignis curved an arm around Prompto, his other hand cupping Prompto's wrist. Prompto fell asleep listening to Ignis's heartbeat. 

For the moment, at least, he could enjoy their strange situation.

* * *

He woke up shivering and alone. Noctis was the only other one in the tent with him; as per usual, he was snoring loudly. Prompto smelled coffee and something cooking and smiled to himself. He never was a fan of coffee, but he thought he could learn to like it.

Of course, Gladio was out there when he got his boots on and emerged from the tent, so he couldn't go straight to Ignis like he would've liked to. Instead he slouched over and plopped down in a chair by Gladio, whose attention was wholly absorbed by his book. 

"So, uh. You and Noct," he said, taking out his phone so he'd have something to do with his hands.

"Me and Noct," Gladio said, not looking up from the novel. "Not going to be a problem, is it?"

"Why would it?" Prompto blinked at the bigger man, and then, after a moment: "Oh, you -- you didn't think I had a thing for him or anything, did you?"

Gladio's reaction, furrowing his brow and then shaking his head, came just an instant too late. "'Course not. That'd be crazy. Not with the way you gush about Cindy nonstop."

"People can be into both," Prompto said without thinking. Suddenly he felt hot all over. Even though Ignis wasn't looking at them, he knew that the man could hear every word of their conversation in the cool, still morning air. "Anyway, uh, no, I meant it when I said I was glad for you guys. Just wondered how long it took you to figure it out."

"Pretty much about two seconds before you saw us in the hotel room," Gladio said, and Prompto was pleased to see Gladio squirm just the tiniest bit in his chair. He thought about asking about what he and Ignis had seen just prior to that -- Gladio dancing with a woman to the live music, Noctis watching him and radiating jealousy -- but then decided not to. That could lead to other questions he wasn't ready to answer yet.

"Well, just keep it down, 'k? Iggy and I have virgin ears that need protecting." Grinning, he slapped Gladio's knee and got up before the bigger man could protest. "Gonna go get some early shots in before breakfast, be back soon!" he called, careful not to glance at Ignis as he skipped away from the haven.

A moment later he darted back, grabbed his camera bag, and darted off again.

* * *

Prompto had dated before; he'd even had a girlfriend, for a little while, in his junior year of high school. She'd been sweet and shy and only wanted to kiss and hold hands, which led to a lot of extra purchases of lotion and tissues. Even that frustration, keen though it seemed at the time, was nothing next to being so close to Ignis _all the time_ and not being allowed to so much as touch him in more than a friendly way.

(Well, OK, fine, he wasn't forbidden from touching Ignis. But it was still a delicate situation and he had to be a lot more careful than usual. He might as well be forbidden.)

Being around the object of his desire all the time was bad enough. Worse was the fact that they never seemed to get _any_ alone time together. Whether they were off hunting frogs for Sania or tracking down some special part for the Regalia on Cindy's orders, the four of them were always together. And really, in the grand scheme of things, Prompto was happy about that. He hadn't had very many friends in school; only when he'd actively befriended Noctis had he found someone to truly feel close to. With all the time he'd spent in the company of Noctis, Ignis, and Gladio, he'd felt as if the four of them were their own little family: he could rely on them in any situation, and he had their backs too.

But even the closest family needed space sometimes. Didn't it?

A week of camping out or sleeping in cramped caravans turned into two. They spent an entire night picking their tedious way through a freezing cave system to find one of the royal tombs belonging to an ancestor of Noctis's. Finally -- thank the _Six_ \-- Ignis put his foot down.

"Call me fussy and stuffy all you want. I require a real bed and a shower. You three might not have any sense of smell, but I'm thoroughly sick of the odor of unwashed Crownsguard." He opened the driver's door of the Regalia -- they'd finally made it out of the cavern only to encounter yet another group of seadevils on the shore before making the climb back to where they'd parked it -- and got in without bothering to see if anyone else had an opinion to share.

Bemused, Prompto glanced at Noctis and Gladio. He could almost see the others' thoughts: a real bedroom, some privacy... "Sounds good to me," Gladio grunted and got into the car. Prompto was too tired to skip, but he still bounced a little as he raced around to get into the shotgun seat.

Technically, the closest hotel was in Old Lestallum, but Prompto wasn't really surprised when Ignis took an earlier turn instead of proceeding south to the old outpost: Lestallum proper was only another couple of hours' drive, and that way they could stay at the Leville and stock up on all kinds of supplies as well. When Ignis glanced over at him, Prompto grinned shamelessly back. In the back seat, Gladio and Noctis had slumped on each other; Noctis snored almost loud enough to be heard over the Regalia's engine.

"Two rooms?" Prompto said hopefully. Ignis just nodded, his eyes enigmatic. _Enigmis_ , Prompto thought, watching him with a private smile.

* * *

By the time they got to their rooms (Prompto hiding his smile when Ignis asked for two rooms, half-considering volunteering bunking with Noctis just to see the look on his and Gladio's faces), all Prompto wanted to do was collapse face-down in bed. Ignis steered him into one of the rooms, nudging him in the direction of the shower, and Prompto went obediently.

Standing in the heated spray of the shower, Prompto closed his eyes and tipped his head up to the water. It was delicious on his bare skin, reminding him all over again why he preferred civilization over wilderness any day. Hot water. Toilets. ( _Toilet paper_ , for gods' sake.) Food that none of them had to prepare. Soft beds. Soft beds with maybe-hopefully-possibly boyfriends in them...

Prompto sucked in a sharp breath and grabbed the shampoo.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's a little short, but I'll make it up in the next one. Promise.

Of course, after he got out of the shower, Ignis had to take his turn. "I'll be quick," he promised, though, coming up to Prompto and kissing him while he was occupied with rubbing a towel over his hair to dry it. "Then we can get something to eat that wasn't cooked over a camp stove?"

Though Prompto sucked in a breath at that sweet kiss, wanting to lean into it and indulge himself, his stomach rumbled embarrassingly at the mention of food. "I _guess_ ," he muttered, smiling ruefully and stepping back. "Don't be long?"

Ignis laughed as he headed into the bathroom. "I don't think I've ever had _that_ request made of me before," he said, and as the door closed behind him, Prompto went bright red and put his towel down, going for his bag to find his hair gel. If they were going out, he wanted to look his best.

He didn't even mind that Noctis and Gladio joined them in the lobby. The two looked a little red, and Noctis's hair was messier than usual: no doubt they'd already taken advantage of having a room to themselves. Maybe even a shower. The idea of taking a shower with Ignis distracted Prompto to the point that he almost didn't notice the others heading out the door.

"Prompto!" Noctis called over his shoulder, and Prompto snapped up and blinked. 

"Coming," he said, and then laughed to himself. He was so hungry for it, everything sounded like innuendo at this point. Including the word innuendo. _In **your** end-o_ , he snickered as he caught up with the others.

"What're you laughing at?" Noctis asked, bumping Prompto's shoulder with his own.

Prompto returned the bump, grinning. "You and Gladio enjoying that room already?"

"Shut up." Noctis scowled; overhearing the question, Gladio laughed. 

"Nah, man, it's sweet. Not like you can really do a lot when it's the four of us shoved in a tent and my feet in your face." Prompto didn't dare a glance at Ignis, wondering whether Ignis would say something. Hoping, a little, that he would. Noctis and Gladio weren't walking hand-in-hand, but Gladio occasionally hooked a thumb in one of Noctis's belt loops, or threw an arm around Noctis's shoulders and tugged him closer for several steps. Prompto didn't think he'd mind being able to do that with Ignis.

"Your stinky-ass feet," Noctis laughed, and Prompto gave him a shove.

"Like yours are any better after two weeks without a real bath!"

"Enough," Ignis said, in his one-thousand-percent-done-already voice, and Prompto glanced at him now. He looked -- not annoyed, but perhaps the slightest bit peeved. This wasn't easy for him, either, Prompto thought. Well, maybe they should say something after all. He made a mental note to talk about with Ignis later.

_Much later_ , he amended, his gaze dropping to Ignis's ass, neatly defined in his trousers.

* * *

Somehow Prompto managed to make it through dinner without blurting anything dumb out or embarrassing himself too much, despite Ignis's proximity: their knees were pressed together in the narrow booth, and Prompto had to constantly remind himself to keep his hands on the table and not on Ignis's lean, long thigh, feeling the heat of him through his pants.

Noctis wanted dessert, of course, and Ignis had a cup of his beloved Ebony while the prince indulged. Gladio reached over to scoop up some whipped cream on his fingertip, dabbing it on Noctis's nose; Prompto gritted his teeth and pushed his boot against Ignis's shoe. _They're doing it on purpose to torture me_ , he thought as Noctis laughed and Gladio leaned in to kiss the tip of Noctis's nose.

He nearly leaped out of the booth once the check arrived, before Ignis had even taken out his wallet to pay for the meal. (Ignis had long ago been entrusted with their funds for fairly obvious reasons.)

"Jeez, Prom, you got a hot date or something?" Gladio snickered as he stood.

"Maybe I do," Prompto said, giving him a shameless wink. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

"Not really," Gladio drawled. Prompto pouted after him. A moment later, he felt a warm hand at the small of his back and glanced over his shoulder to see Ignis there.

"Hot date, hm?" Ignis murmured in his ear. Prompto shivered all the way to his toes.

"Meet you back at the room?"

"I'm looking forward to it."

* * *

Yet another advantage of Gladio and Noctis's new relationship: the two of them wanted to go off by themselves to do something -- probably to find a bar, if Prompto knew Gladio at all -- which made slipping away with Ignis even easier than it might have been. No goofy excuses, no drama, just the two of them heading at a leisurely pace back to the Leville. All right, perhaps not quite so leisurely, especially the closer they got. By the time they reached the lobby, Prompto was panting for breath.

"Think they suspected anything?" he asked, leaning against the wall while Ignis unlocked the door to their room.

"They're still quite involved in each other," Ignis replied, and pushed the door open. "I doubt they even noticed us depart."

"We should probably let them in on this... whatever this is. You know. You and me." Prompto tilted his head back against the wall, thumbs hooked into the beltloops of his jeans. "Sometime, I mean. Not right now."

Ignis only smiled slowly in response and stepped closer, the door forgotten for a moment, the key sliding into his pocket. One hand came to rest flat on the wall above Prompto's shoulder, the other curving at his waist; Prompto sucked in a hot breath.

"I'm sure they'll figure it out eventually," Ignis murmured. "I've got other things to think about right now, don't you?"

Prompto swallowed and nodded. Before he could kiss Ignis, though, Ignis moved away, that same slow smile firmly in place; out of reach in an instant, he headed into the bedroom. Prompto nearly tripped in his hurry to follow.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope this makes up for the shortness of the last part.

Ignis was already removing his jacket as Prompto shut the door firmly, checking to make sure it was locked behind him. Once that was done, he turned back to see Ignis dropping his jacket over the back of the closest chair, watching him with inscrutable eyes.

"I'm a little nervous," Ignis said, unexpectedly. "I hope that's all right." He was undoing his gloves now, efficient motions tugging them off. Somehow, it was just what Prompto needed to hear. They were a couple of years apart in age; when Prompto was younger, Ignis had seemed impossibly older, more mature, in a way he'd never be able to reach. Now, he saw how little difference there truly was between them.

He took the couple of steps over to where Ignis stood and reached for his hands, helping with the gloves, then dropped them to the chair and moved in closer, liking that he didn't have to look up _too_ far to meet Ignis's eyes. "Hey, it's me. El dorko supremo. If anyone gets to be nervous around here, I think it's me. OK?"

Ignis managed a smile at that, and Prompto brought Ignis's hands up between them, kissing the knuckles of one and then the other hand, then tugging so that Ignis came toward him now. "It's all well and good," Ignis said, "but it _has_ been quite some time for me. And I want this--" He dipped his head for a brief kiss, barely a press of lips to Prompto's, pulling back only a little, allowing the briefest breath of space between them. "--rather badly. I hope you'll... you'll underst... That is rather distracting," he added, as Prompto's busy hands finally got his shirt untucked in back and skimmed up underneath it, between the fabric to touch his bare skin.

"Kinda the point," Prompto said, with a grin, and started tugging Ignis back toward the bed. "Dude, of _course_ I understand. You gotta know I'm nervous too-- whoops!" He laughed suddenly when his thighs hit the mattress; he hadn't expected it to be so close and he fell backwards, still holding on to Ignis. Miraculously, neither of them got an elbow to the ribs or face; Ignis caught himself over Prompto, chuckling as he caught his breath, and Prompto went back to untucking Ignis's shirt like he'd never stopped. "When it's something you want a lot, it happens, you know?"

"I do know," Ignis said, soft, and lowered his head to kiss Prompto.

For a little while, at least, Prompto forgot about anything but kissing Ignis back. He'd already begun to miss the feel of Ignis's mouth on his, his sweet smooth lips, the way he took his time as if deliberately planning how to use each kiss to best render Prompto senseless. He probably did just that, Prompto thought, and it was working, too. One of Ignis's elbows had landed next to Prompto's head, and his long fingers stroked Prompto's hair, teased into the gelled spikes and made Prompto shiver all over again.

"Can we," Prompto finally said, helpless with want, and worked his hands between them to start unbuttoning Ignis's shirt.

"Oh, if we _must_." Ignis said it with a sigh, as if he was already bored of interruptions, but he nudged Prompto back and sat up a little, giving Prompto better access. It didn't take long before he had the buttons all undone, and Prompto spread his fingers greedily over Ignis's chest, palms flat on the lean wide pectoral muscles, slipping across Ignis's ribs and over his side.

Ignis twitched away with an involuntary chuckle and pulled the shirt from his arms. He was in an awkward position, Prompto realized, from how they'd fallen on the bed. "Up," he said, and Ignis went; standing as well, Prompto turned to pull down the covers.

He felt Ignis's touch on his shoulders, but before he could turn again, those patient hands were sliding his vest off. Prompto inhaled and closed his eyes. He heard the soft flutter of the garment landing somewhere and couldn't bring himself to care where. Ignis was touching his chest now, arms curved around him to slide down over his belly, to pull up his shirt from the hem. Like a child, Prompto held up his arms and let Ignis strip him.

"Ah, you're right," and Ignis's voice was a hot breath in his ear. Prompto let out a low little moan. "That _is_ better. You hide so much under those Crownsguard fatigues, I've been dying to see. And touch." 

His hands suited action to words, stroking lazily up Prompto's abdomen, palms flattening over his chest. A finger and thumb found one of Prompto's nipples, tweaked it, and Prompto gasped and let his head drop back to Ignis's shoulder. Ignis's mouth hadn't gone idle either; he could feel hot wet kisses on his neck, on his ear, at the corner of his jaw. "Fuck," Prompto breathed.

Ignis laughed, then, a genuinely sweet sound. "Eventually," he said, and while Prompto was still trying to parse that, Ignis turned him and nudged him back to the bed again. Prompto started to sit up, reaching for Ignis; Ignis had already knelt at his feet and was undoing Prompto's boots.

"Oh," Prompto said, quiet, his breath caught for a moment. All he could see was Ignis's soft brown hair, spikes of it around his face and ears. The subservient position didn't seem right, somehow, even if Ignis _was_ a royal servant. He reached for Ignis's shoulders. One boot came off, then the other, set aside; his socks were tucked into them moments later, and Prompto wriggled his bare toes on the rug.

Ignis's hands stroked up his shins as he pushed up, nudging himself closer: Prompto spread his legs without even thinking, letting Ignis settle between them, his own hands slipping to Ignis's nape, into his hair, curving at the back of his head. Another kiss -- Prompto had to lean over to do it, but he didn't mind, he tried to urge Ignis up but Ignis's hands were moving again, this time finding the belt buckle and undoing it with those nimble fingers, then going for the button of his jeans-- Prompto inhaled sharply.

"Is this all right?" Ignis's voice had gone silky, low, but his eyes were sincere as he raised them to watch Prompto. If anything, there was a hint of concern there.

"Oh, Gods yes," Prompto gulped. "Yes, _so_ all right, please, I don't care what you do, just something, even if you just want me to do everything--"

He was rewarded with a quiet chuckle for that, and Ignis resumed his work, working the button free and then tugging the zipper down. "Here," he murmured, and curved his hands around Prompto's ass to urge him forward. Prompto went with it, perched on the edge of the mattress; he reached for Ignis's shoulder, only then noticing he still had his gloves on; he peeled them off in swift motions and tossed them aside.

"Please," he said again, putting a hand out behind himself; without any support, he was pretty sure he'd just fall flat on his back, and he needed to see this.

"You don't have to beg," Ignis said, and tugged down on the waistband of Prompto's underwear. Dumb and eager, his cock popped free, already stiff just from the heat of their teasing kisses and the enormity of what was about to happen. "Not this time," Ignis added, before rocking up on his knees and taking Prompto into his mouth.

Prompto managed a weak cry. Holy _fuck_ , Ignis had most of him in his mouth already and he could feel that clever tongue like velvet gliding around him, slicking him wet, making his thighs tremble with need. Ignis drew back until just the head was in his mouth and started to suck hard, and Prompto thought he might lose his mind.

"I-Ignis," he groaned, curved his free hand at the back of Ignis's head, in the longer hair there. "Oh shit, Ignis, that's good, that's so--" The words were lost in another moan as Ignis began to move his head now, slow but steady, tongue pressed to his shaft and a quiet, almost absent, hum making his entire mouth vibrate just a little. Just enough.

Prompto lost a good minute or two shuddering in pleasure. He'd had blowjobs before -- not many, but a few -- enough, certainly, to know that this was already the best one he'd ever received in his young life. Not only that, but he was pretty sure he was already addicted to Ignis's mouth. When he looked down to see Ignis's beautiful lips formed tight around his cock, moving faster now, he groaned again. He thought he might come just from that sight alone. Ignis hadn't even taken off his glasses. A couple of fingers were curled around the base of Prompto's erection, moving against the rhythm of his mouth; the other hand had snuck back around to Prompto's ass, where his jeans hung loose around his hips now.

"Let--let me," Prompto managed, hoarse, and Ignis pulled back for a moment, blinking up at him. The air was cool on his erection, and he hissed as he pushed up just enough to shove his jeans and underwear down below his ass, to his thighs. 

Wiping his mouth with the back of one hand -- _fuck_ , what a filthy gesture that was -- Ignis reached to help, and in a moment, Prompto was utterly naked and couldn't bring himself to care. Before he could ask if Ignis wanted to do something else, the other man had leaned forward again, diving in as if annoyed at the brief interruption. Heat covered his cock again, tight wet velvet taking him in so deep: all Prompto could do was drop his head back and moan at the sheer sweetness of it.

He'd gone too long, or maybe it was just that everything was doubly, triply intense with Ignis, but Prompto felt that tightening in his balls, the prickling of heat building, way earlier than he would have liked. _Like I'm fifteen all over again_ , he thought, his fingers tightening in Ignis's hair. "Ig--Iggy," he rasped.

Ignis pulled back a little, his eyes reproachful -- well, as much as they could be while his lips were still formed tight around Prompto's cock. One eyebrow had even gone up: holy _shit_ that was hot.

"Please," he said again. "C-can't, can't take much more, I'm gonna, I'm gonna... you should pull off--"

Fucking hell, Ignis looked like he was actually _pondering_ the thought for a moment. Then he shrugged, his eyes dancing wickedly, and pushed back down. He was moving fast on Prompto now, the fingers curled at the base of his shaft jerking him hard, so much sensation and heat Prompto couldn't stand it. He cried out helplessly as he came, sudden and hard, collapsing backward to the mattress when his arm gave out under him.

He must have whited out for a moment, because the next thing he knew, Ignis was nudging him to slide back a little and laying down next to him. Somehow, Ignis still had his pants on; Prompto could feel the slick fabric against his bare skin, and the heat of a trapped erection lined up to his hip.

"Wow," he said at last, when he'd remembered how to breathe.

"That's the kind of reaction I like to get." Ignis wiped an almost-absent thumb over his lower lip; Prompto saw a glimmer of semen there, at the corner of his mouth, and swallowed hard as a new rush of heat went through him. He was spent, utterly wiped, but gods _damn_ that was hot. He reached up, brushed his own thumb at the corner of Ignis's mouth.

"You were. That was. Wow. _Wow_ ," he said again. It was all he could seem to manage.

"Are you all right?" There was actual concern in Ignis's voice now. 

Prompto laughed, a little hoarsely, and rolled over all at once, bracing himself over Ignis on one elbow. " _So_ all right," he said, grinning, his free hand skating flat over Ignis's belly, his side, down to find the opening of his trousers. There was an extra flap thing that momentarily stymied Prompto, but he bent his head to kiss Ignis while he figured it out, and then he was unzipping Ignis and snaking his hand inside, and Ignis moaned into the kiss.

"Y'gonna keep the glasses on?" Prompto murmured, brushing his lips at the corner of Ignis's jaw, down his neck. "Kinda hot."

Ignis gave a raw chuckle and reached up with one hand to tug them off, though he kept them curled in his hand for now. The other hand stayed at Prompto's lower back, stroking restlessly. Grinning, Prompto formed his hand over the prominent bulge of Ignis's cock in his briefs, savoring the way Ignis shuddered under him, the way his hips pushed up to try and get more of that pressure.

Tempted though he was to draw it out, to get more of those hot needy noises out of Ignis's beautiful mouth, he wanted to touch Ignis, to feel him after what had seemed like an eternity of waiting. He let his hand smooth inside the elastic now, rucking down Ignis's underwear and exposing him; eyes drawn to the sight, he sucked in a breath. Shit. Ignis felt enormous in his hand, a thick hard shaft, the head reddened and already wet. Prompto let his fingers trace up the underside, feeling that pulsing vein. When he stroked over the tip with his thumb, the sound Ignis made was somewhere between agony and bliss.

"Fuck, man, you are so fucking gorgeous," Prompto muttered. He shifted down until he was settled on his hip next to Ignis's thighs, curling forward and lifting Ignis's erection in curved fingers at the same time.

Ignis raised his head; from here, Prompto could see that his eyes were dark, the pupils blown. He looked dazed, lost with need. "Are you-- you don't have to--" he blurted.

"I know," Prompto said, his smile widening, and without breaking Ignis's gaze, he bent and took Ignis into his mouth.

There was always something delicious about this part, first tasting a lover. Prompto loved using his mouth with whoever he was with; it was one thing he'd learned early, how to please someone and how much godsdamn _fun_ it was to make them crazy. The first girl he'd been with in bed had called him a natural and told him he'd never be lonely if he was that enthusiastic with everyone. He'd felt weirdly shy about it at first, but now he was kind of proud of it.

Especially now, because he didn't have to be weird and shy and awkward with Ignis. (Any more than he already was, at least.) He could take his time, learning the shape of Ignis's cock in his mouth, how his lips fit around the shaft. He could breathe in the heated musky sex smell and let himself drift in the sheer pleasure of making Ignis feel good. Which, if the sounds coming out of Ignis were anything to go by, he definitely was. He laved his tongue around the head, salty wetness teasing out of the slit, then dropped his head for a few fast, hard sucks, his free hand slipping around to cup one of Ignis's cheeks. Ignis was so slender, all muscle, but he had just enough ass to grab. _Perfect_. 

"P-prompto," he heard Ignis gasp, and looked up, sure his own eyes were as black as Ignis's now. He wondered absently if it made a pretty picture, his lips slick and taut on Ignis's erection. He hoped so. 

"Mmm?" he managed.

"Y-you're killing me, that's so good," Ignis breathed. Prompto smiled inwardly and went back to work. He could have done this all day, but he knew when teasing became torment and wanted more anyway. Closing his eyes now, he began to move in earnest, steady slides down to take Ignis in. All the way: _there_ , his throat eased and he had Ignis trapped in the back of his throat. He held him there, patiently breathing through his nose, while Ignis made an impossible squeaking sound, then let go and did it again. And again.

Ignis's hands were in his hair now (hairstyle wrecked, he was sure, why was he thinking about that at a time like this), and he pushed hard, his tongue taut along Ignis's cock, he could feel him getting hotter, he was sure-- He pushed his nose into the thatch of wiry pubic hair and held, and there, fucking _finally_ , Ignis gave a strangled, desperate moan, thready and helpless, and came, glorious, hips pushing upward and cock jerking in Prompto's throat.

Prompto pulled back only when he felt Ignis twitching weakly, overloaded with sensation. He couldn't help the smug, wry grin as he plopped himself down next to Ignis again, licking his lips.

"Th-that," Ignis rasped, "was fucking _obscene_."

"Worth it." Prompto pressed a soft kiss to Ignis's lips.


	6. Chapter 6

Prompto awoke, blinking, to the sound of water running in the bathroom. Pushing up on an elbow, he saw that the lights had been dimmed and he'd been tucked under the covers.

"Ignis?" he asked, only slightly concerned. A moment later, the water shut off, and Ignis appeared from the bathroom with a glass of water in hand. He brought the glass over, handing it to Prompto, who took it absently.

"You put clothes on," he said.

"Only to run down to the ice machine." Ignis had indeed put his pants back on, but he undid them and tossed them to the chair where his blazer lay; it seemed a million years ago now that Prompto had watched him take it off and set it there. Prompto tugged the covers back and Ignis slid in, then took the glass back. "I got thirsty, and you were drifting off, so I didn't want to bother you."

"You wouldn't have." Prompto smiled, sitting up a little in bed and sliding his arm around Ignis's shoulders. "But now I have a nice mental image of you running down the hall without a shirt on and shocking some lucky guest."

Ignis snickered as he sipped the water; Prompto claimed the glass again for a long drink of his own, enjoying the crisp coldness of it, then set it aside on the side table. "So," he said, his fingers absently tracing a pattern on Ignis's arm, "round two?"

"The spirit is willing, but the flesh is still recovering." Ignis's hand caught Prompto's wrist, where a couple of wristbands remained. "What's this?"

"Oh, Noct got me that one--" Prompto went quiet when Ignis turned the band, a leather cuff decorated with silver studs, and his tattoo came into view.

"I didn't know you had a tattoo," was all Ignis said, though, and he touched one of the diamond shapes with his thumb. "Does it mean something?"

"It's a birthmark," Prompto said blithely. Sometimes that got him off the hook, whoever had asked him laughing enough that Prompto could change the subject. From the way Ignis twisted and glanced up at him -- no glasses, he'd left them off -- he knew that wasn't going to fly this time. "Actually, I don't know what it means. This is gonna sound weird, but... I've had it since I was a baby."

"Since you were--" Ignis shook his head, clearly confused. "I'm fairly sure there are laws against that sort of thing?"

Prompto shrugged. He'd learned to be casual about this. "All I know is I was adopted when I was about a year old. My parents, they told me as soon as I was old enough to know, so I never felt weird or like I didn't belong to them, right? It's just a thing, like my freckles or the way I go from pale to sunburned in two seconds." He carefully didn't jerk his hand out of Ignis's, letting him examine the tattoo. "And they told me, my parents did, that I had that when they adopted me. I mean, it was there already, you know? They didn't know why, the adoption agency didn't know why. But I guess because I had it, some people didn't want me, so I got passed over a few times."

"Oh," said Ignis, soft, and this time his thumb closed completely over the barcode-lines of the tattoo. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be." Prompto gave him a wry smile. "I mean, I got adopted by people who really wanted me, and they're awesome. Even if they weren't around all the time because they both had to work super hard just to get by, I understood that, I didn't mind. So, hey, way to be a downer, right? Wanna change the subject?"

"Please," Ignis said with clear relief, and Prompto chuckled.

They lay like that for a little while, absent small chatter in the semi-darkness interspersed with sips of water. After a while, Ignis reached for the TV remote and turned it on, just to have a little sound in the room; he found a nature documentary, though as he flipped through the hotel's limited number of channels, a news report briefly caught their eyes. Insomnia was still apparently in bad shape, many of the skyline's familiar buildings in ruins, smoke still rising here and there behind the shoulder of a reporter. Prompto didn't want to know what they were saying, letting out a sigh when Ignis changed the channel.

"We'll get back there," Ignis said softly. 

"I just hope Mom and Dad are all right." Prompto swallowed; he hadn't been able to get in contact with them since everything had happened.

"And my uncle." That was right; Ignis's uncle was a servant at the Citadel too. A stab of guilt hit Prompto that he hadn't even thought of that. They knew Gladio's father was gone: Iris had reported that when they first met her here in Lestallum, her eyes shining as she told them how she got out with Dustin and Jared and Talcott.

Now, Prompto squeezed Ignis's shoulder. "We'll find them. We will."

Ignis made a noncommittal sound, but he turned, shifting to sprawl himself over Prompto. His eyes were dark. "I know," he said, and made it clear he wanted to change the topic yet again by pressing an urgent kiss to Prompto's mouth. Prompto was more than willing to follow his lead. It was bad enough they didn't know if their mission would succeed, that they were stuck and unable to make a difference except in small, local ways: they couldn't give in to worry and despair too.

And Prompto was shallow enough to readily accept Ignis's distraction. He was OK with that. 

"Yeah," he mumbled, when Ignis drifted to his neck, mouthing at the tense line in his jaw, "yeah, that's nice, you feel so good--" He did, too; Ignis had lined himself up over Prompto, knees between his, thigh to thigh, chest to chest, and, best of all, cock to cock. The heated friction of bare warm skin against his own sent shards of pleasure all the way through Prompto, and with Ignis grinding against him, he could already feel himself getting hard again. He slid his hands down to Ignis's ass, grasping at those firm cheeks and holding Ignis to him.

"Do you want--" Ignis came back up to Prompto's mouth, lifted up a little to watch him. His hips worked almost lazily, an easy grind, his hard cock riding along Prompto's deliciously. Prompto blinked up at Ignis, even as he spread his legs a little wider, urging Ignis to take advantage of the greater leverage. 

Ignis's eyes unfocused and he ground himself harder into Prompto, panting now; he dropped for a fervent kiss, tongue pushing, exploring deep in Prompto's mouth. It was everything Prompto wanted, feeling their bodies together, the slick, slippery slide of their cocks trapped between their bellies. When Ignis shifted his weight to one arm and brought the other hand between them to gather both of them into his fist, Prompto cried out, shoved his head back into the pillow.

He couldn't last long after that, no matter how much he wanted. Not with Ignis's fingers working feverishly on them, not with the slickness of sweat making everything smooth and sweet. Ignis's fist sped and tightened, and Prompto came, moaning, straining up against Ignis. He felt the spurt of wetness between them even as Ignis groaned out his own release; panting, he hooked a calf over Ignis's and let himself collapse in post-orgasmic pleasure.

"Do I want what?" he mumbled.

"Nothing," Ignis murmured, with a satisfied sigh.

* * *

The next thing Prompto knew, a phone alarm was going off and the sun was bright in his eyes.

"Don't wanna," he grumbled, rolling over to reach for the phone. Five more minutes, that was all he needed--

He caught up against a warm body and stopped. Pried open a bleary eyelid. _Oh_. He hadn't imagined it; Ignis was still there, in bed with him. He'd stopped the alarm on the phone, and now he was smiling indulgently at Prompto.

"Don't wanna what?" he inquired.

"Don't wanna get up," Prompto said with a grin, pushing himself up over Ignis.

"I wish we could stay in bed all day, but alas, duty calls." Ignis laid a gentle hand at the side of Prompto's face, his smile rueful. "Noctis got a call from Cindy while we were asleep. We're headed to Cape Caem." He held up the phone, showing the text Noctis had apparently just sent: that was what Prompto had heard, not an alarm.

Groaning, Prompto collapsed on Ignis. " _Really_ don't wanna," he muttered into Ignis's chest.

"Oh, come now," Ignis said, stroking a soft palm down Prompto's back. "You'll get to see your grease-monkey goddess again."

"I guess that's something." Remembering Ignis's coolness the last time Cindy had been brought up, Prompto pushed himself up on an arm again and smiled down at him. "Rather see you, any day."

"Such a flatterer." Ignis sounded appeased, though, pushing up for a brief kiss, then nudging Prompto off of him. "Come on, now. We're going to be in the car all day, so we'd best shower now while we can."

" _We_?" Prompto gave Ignis a hopeful grin as he rolled over and hopped out of bed. "Can I wash your back?"

Ignis inhaled; Prompto could see just how tempted he was by the idea, but then he shook his head, his smile tight. "As much as the offer appeals, I think we'd best wait until we have time to indulge."

Prompto shrugged a shoulder. "Your loss," he grinned, and headed into the bathroom before Ignis could get the first shower.

* * *

A couple of long days of travel brought them to Cape Caem, far along the southern coast. The sun was going down when they peeled themselves out of the car and stumbled up along the pathway toward the lighthouse to find Cindy waiting for them.

Prompto had fallen hard for Cindy the first time he saw her. Unsurprising: she was beautiful, bouncy blonde curls springing out from under her cap, a smudge of grease on her cheek showing she didn't care about her appearance nearly as much as she cared for her work. The way she'd helped them consistently through their travels hadn't hurt, either: she'd kept finding out about unique auto parts to help the Regalia perform even better, and refused payment for services rendered.

(Prompto considered himself too much of a gentleman to notice the generous curve of cleavage revealed by her half-zipped jacket, or how her shorts showed off her gorgeous long legs. And maybe she didn't really need to wear those thigh-high stockings for the kind of work she did, but _damn_ did they look fine on her.)

Still, as Cindy led them up to the lighthouse where her grandfather awaited them, Prompto found his gaze on Ignis's ass in his pants, rather than Cindy's in her shorts. He knew how Ignis felt in his hands, now, taut muscle flexing under his palms as he thrust--

The toe of Prompto's boot caught on a rock and he nearly went over.

"Watch where you're going," Gladio snapped, as Noctis grasped Prompto's arm to help him upright himself.

"S-sorry!" he laughed. At least he could play off the flush on his cheeks as embarrassment.

* * *

Cindy had explained that a certain kind of metal was needed to finish fixing the hull of the boat that would take them to Altissia; Cid only needed that last bit and they'd be on their way. 

"No problem," Noctis told him. "We'll get it for you."

And then Gladio informed them he'd be staying there, at the house overlooking the coast, with Iris and Talcott, for a few days, and Noctis's mood went straight to hell.


	7. Chapter 7

Prompto had seen Noctis sulky before. It was never a pretty picture. Now, without Gladio keeping him company in the back seat, his attitude was downright black.

Prompto tried to understand, he really did. He thought maybe part of the problem was that Noctis could usually have almost everything he wanted, as soon as he wanted it. He was rarely denied anything: the Citadel staff had always felt sorry for the boy whose mother had died so young, who'd been injured for a good part of his childhood. Even Ignis indulged him: baking special sweets for him, attending Council meetings on his behalf, driving him everywhere he wanted to go.

He knew that wasn't all it was, though. Prompto looked over at Ignis, unusually quiet as he focused on driving to the location they'd been told was the only place left to find any mythril ore, and let himself briefly imagine what it would feel like to be separated from him. Their relationship was still so new, it felt a little fragile; he wanted Ignis like he wanted to breathe, greedily anticipated sleeping half on top of him every night. Couldn't get enough of Ignis's body against his, now that he'd had the briefest taste.

He got it, more than Noctis probably thought he did.

Glancing into the back seat of the Regalia, he saw Noctis curled up in the corner of the seat, knees up and head resting on them. His eyes were closed, but Prompto wasn't sure he was sleeping. 

Prompto bit his lip. He wanted to help his friend, but he knew there really wasn't anything he could do right now. Gladio had made a choice -- and while Prompto didn't know what reasoning was behind it, he knew Gladio didn't do things without cause. Gladio would return to them when he was ready to. On top of that, Gladio was clearly trusting him and Ignis with temporary Shield duties. They'd protect Noctis anyway, no question, but it meant something to know that Gladio put his faith in them.

 _That_ was something he could do. Prompto settled himself in his seat again, resolved to take care of Noctis in any way necessary -- be it physically protecting Noctis or by making terrible jokes to cheer him up -- until Gladio returned.

* * *

Apparently, Prompto had a type: competent, badass people who knew how to take care of themselves in any situation. It was only after fighting alongside Aranea Highwind (the fricking _commodore_ of the Imperial Army, what-in-the-fuck-was-Prompto's-life-now) that he finally put that together.

Cindy Aurum. Ignis Scientia. Aranea Highwind.

Once they'd climbed out of the grimy underground ruins with the precious mythril ore safely secured, Aranea offered them a ride back to Lestallum. In an MT engine. (Fortunately, it was empty of MT soldiers.)

Prompto sat down hard against one wall and tipped his head back. He didn't even notice right away when Ignis joined him, slower as he sat, clearly less than pleased about their circumstance (not to mention the dirty floor of the transport).

"Gil-piece for your thoughts," Ignis said. Prompto started and looked over at him guiltily.

"Just tired," he said.

"Mm." Ignis let his shoulder rest against Prompto's, a pleasant and innocuous point of contact. Across the way from them, Noctis leaned against the Regalia, which had been brought on board with them: a foot tapped restlessly on the metal flooring of the engine, as if Noctis was listening to some music inaudible to them. At least he was distracted, not quite so down as before.

"So, uh, that Aranea," Prompto said, though he glanced around as he spoke to make sure she wasn't within earshot. "She's really something, huh? Do you think she meant that, about leaving the Empire and going out on her own?"

"I couldn't say." Ignis's voice went a little cooler, though his shoulder stayed where it was. "She certainly seemed sincere, at least."

"Maybe we'll run into her again. That'd be cool." Prompto rolled his head back against the wall, sighing. 

Ignis made a non-committal sound by way of reply. Before Prompto could think to question it, Aranea's voice came over the engine's PA to tell them they were about to arrive in Lestallum. Prompto pushed to his feet, reaching for Ignis to help him up as well. Whatever was bothering him, Prompto would ask him about it once they were alone.

* * *

Of course, they couldn't just pick up and head on their way. Nothing was ever that simple anymore. Aranea came back to the hold just as they were landing to let them know there was some trouble at the power plant; the woman who would help them with the mythril, Holly, needed their aid before she could process it.

Holly barely gave them a chance to say hello before pushing the protective thermal suit at Noct and telling him to get into the plant immediately. Apparently the place had been overrun by daemons, and while another hunter had gone in already, she wanted him to have some backup. Prompto had a moment to take a picture of Noctis in the suit, and then Noct was heading across the wide walkway toward the plant's central tower.

"How long should this take?" Ignis inquired of Holly, who was testing the comm system that would link her with Noct and the other hunter.

"Depends how good your friend is," Holly said tersely. "We don't usually see incursions like this, and the generator fluctuations won't help any. If he's fast..."

"He's fast," Prompto affirmed. He took a moment to frame another shot of Ignis and Holly talking, adjusting his camera for the lower light, and then let the camera fall to rest on his chest. As Holly turned her attention to Noctis's progress into the power plant, Ignis moved away, resting his hands on the steel barrier that currently blockaded any entry into the building. A few of the women workers milled about down at the base of the stairs, watching worriedly, but up here it was just Ignis, Holly and Prompto.

Who had to admit to himself he was a little nervous about approaching Ignis. At the barrier, Ignis looked stiff, his shoulders hunched a little, his face unreadable. Prompto thought back to their abbreviated conversation in the Magitek engine. He'd been maybe a little too effusive about Aranea, but Ignis had to know that didn't mean anything.

Well, no. Ignis didn't have to know anything about what Prompto meant or didn't mean. Taking a breath for courage, Prompto came up next to Ignis, rested his arms on the rail. 

"He'll be fine," he said.

"Oh, I know." Ignis pushed his glasses up absently, but didn't take his gaze away from the plant. "It's still difficult watching him go alone, after we swore oaths to protect him at any cost."

"Yeah." By now, Noctis had disappeared inside the entrance to the building; light flared from within, undoubtedly an indication of a battle with the daemons. "But we gotta trust him to know how to take care of himself, too."

Ignis didn't respond, but he leaned over, too, his posture relaxing just a bit. Prompto dared to touch Ignis's hand with his. After a moment, Ignis let out a low sigh and let his little finger curl around Prompto's.

"You're not mad at me, are you?" Prompto asked. "Just 'cause I was being stupid about Aranea? I mean, yeah, she's hot as hell, but my mouth runs faster'n my brain most of the time. She's not the one I want. You know that, right?"

The corner of Ignis's mouth turned up just enough for the light to catch it. "I do. And no, I wasn't mad. Not truly."

"Maybe I should just ask you to forgive me now for all the stupid shit I know I'm gonna say in the future," Prompto suggested. Ignis chuckled softly, tugging on Prompto's little finger; when Prompto leaned in, Ignis caught his mouth for a brief, sweet kiss.

"I'll try not to take everything at face value, for my part," Ignis said.

"Does this mean we just had our first fight?" Prompto asked, with a disingenuous grin. "'Cause I know a great way to make up--"

Before he could go on, Holly's voice interrupted them. "She's gonna blow!" she was yelling into the comm. "Abort the mission and get outta there!"

"Raincheck on that," Ignis said, and Prompto swallowed and ran after him to the monitors Holly had set up.

* * *

He hadn't _really_ been worried, but it was still a relief to see Noctis, in the thermal suit, jogging out of the power plant and back along the walkway toward them. Behind him, a taller figure in another suit, presumably the hunter who had gone in ahead of Noctis, followed close behind. 

If he'd been paying attention, Prompto was sure he would have called it right away. As it was, he was so distracted by seeing that Noctis made it out safely that he barely paid attention to the other hunter. At least until the man unsealed his helmet and lifted it off, revealing--

" _Gladio_?!" Prompto yelped. He would have jumped on him if Gladio hadn't still been in the suit.

"So _that's_ where you went?" Ignis said, an eyebrow arched.

"This is where I ended up," Gladio replied, smiling as Holly helped him undo the suit. "Knew you three would get here sooner or later." His eyes were only on Noctis, who was shedding his own suit as fast as Prompto could help him out of it.

"Gonna tell us where you've been?" Prompto asked.

"Nope." Gladio ran his hands through his limp hair as Holly proceeded to thank them effusively for helping with the daemons in the plant. 

"I'll get started on smeltin' that ore right away," she said. "Should be ready for you in the morning."

"Back to the Leville, then?" Ignis suggested. "We may as well get some rest while we wait."

"And you're telling us everything that happened. Including how you got--" Noctis made a motion to Gladio's chest, where a new, wide scar, still raw and red at the edges, crossed from upper right to lower left. Part of the tattoo, the falcon's head across Gladio's pec, had been obscured by it. Another new scar crossed Gladio's forehead, that one narrower, shorter. 

"Looks like someone tried to scalp you," Prompto said, before Noctis started grabbing Gladio in public.

"Yeah, yeah, nothin' to brag about," Gladio said, as Ignis began to herd them back toward the hotel. "You should see the other guy."

* * *

Prompto wasn't really surprised to hear the loud thumping from the adjacent room almost before he'd locked the door behind himself and Ignis.

"Something tells me our young lovers missed each other," Ignis said, peeling off his gloves. A moment later, he let out a yelp as Prompto tackled him to the bed.

"They're not the only ones," Prompto murmured, grinning down at Ignis.

"Ugh," Ignis said, even though he was smiling too. "Get off me, you reek."

"We were in an underground ruin! Under a lake! Being attacked by a million daemons! What did you expect?" Still, Prompto pushed to his feet, reaching for Ignis's hands. After a moment, Ignis took them, letting himself be pulled upright.

"I suppose we could investigate the shower together," Ignis allowed, a smile tucked in the corner of his mouth, as Prompto tugged him back toward the bathroom.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry.

Making their way back to Cape Caem felt strangely as if they were saying goodbye to Lucis. Maybe Prompto was just being morbid or depressed or something, but he couldn't shake the notion that he wouldn't see any of it for a long time again, if ever. They swung through Wiz Chocobo Post to get a cactuar model for Talcott, and Prompto made them stop for a group picture outside the chocobo stalls; they took a few more shots for Vyv's magazine (and inadvertently raided an Imperial base while they were at it, _oops so sorry_ ); they had one last gander at the Rock of Ravatogh and the Disc of Cauthess (less impressive now that Titan had changed the scenery).

And then they were back at Caem, with Iris and Cor, Dustin and Monica and Talcott all there to wave them off. Cid manned the wheel of the boat (or yacht, or ship, or whatever nautical term was most appropriate), and Prompto took probably more pictures than he should have of the southern coast receding in the distance.

They'd heard radio broadcasts about Lunafreya's return to Altissia: apparently she'd been making her way through the Lucis countryside, on her own trajectory to the place where she and Noctis had originally been destined to be married. Now the government of Accordo was keeping her safe there as she prepared to summon Leviathan, despite the Empire's intent to take down the Astral.

To be honest, Prompto couldn't really make a lot of sense of it, all that political wrangling. He tried, he paid attention, but mostly he watched how drawn and tense Noctis became, the closer they got to Altissia, how even Gladio's big hand on Noctis's back didn't seem to help. 

Sure, Prompto wanted to finally meet Lunafreya. After helping her dog when he didn't even know it was hers, just a stray with a hurt paw he thought -- after years of secret correspondence -- after her encouragement that led to him befriending Noct -- of course he wanted to thank her. If it wasn't for that, he might never have been driven to lose weight, to become more outgoing, to make a friend who became his brother. To fall hard and fast for Ignis, whom he'd certainly never have met otherwise. 

(Lunafreya might be a healer, she might be the Oracle, but she was also a total sweetheart. Prompto doted on her.)

Mostly, though, Prompto had decided he wanted to help fix things however he could. If that meant facing the entire Imperial Army so they could win Leviathan's blessing, so be it.

If it meant staying by Noct's side and making him smile again, even better.

* * *

Altissia blew Prompto's mind from the moment they arrived on a long, raised waterway that delivered them neatly at the docks. All around them, he took in elaborate towers, delicate architecture, and beyond that, majestically curving waterfalls that surrounded the entire city like veils around a four-poster bed. He wanted to explore everywhere, even though Cid (once getting them through customs, a detail none of them had foreseen) informed them they needed to go to his friend's restaurant, Maagho, first thing.

So beautiful was Altissia, it was almost enough to distract him from Ignis's hand on the small of his back as they made their way toward the hotel. Almost.

"We should go now," Noct said, once they'd checked in (and had an abrupt, cryptic-as-always meeting with Gentiana, Luna's closest advisor). 

"I agree," Ignis said. "This isn't a sightseeing trip."

Prompto's hand was on his camera, half out of its bag; he slowly slid it back in and zipped the bag closed.

"Who's the guy we're supposed to meet? Wes-something?" Gladio asked, as they headed for the closest gondola station. Not only was Altissia gorgeous beyond measure, but due to the fact that it had been built on an island and then out from there, most of the city was easiest accessed from the canals that criss-crossed it.

"Weskham Armaugh, I believe." Ignis glanced back at Prompto, trailing behind them. "Prompto, are you coming?"

He'd been distracted, just for a moment, by the overheard snippet of conversation: two women excitedly discussed the fact that Lady Lunafreya's wedding dress was on display elsewhere in town. "Yeah," he said now, catching up to Ignis. "Where are we going?"

Gladio rolled his eyes.

* * *

Looking back, Prompto wished he'd taken more pictures before everything went to shit. That was the beauty of hindsight, he supposed.

Altissia crawled with Imperial soldiers. The city's chancellor, Camelia Claustra, had guaranteed the four of them safe passage on the condition that they protect the citizens of Altissia when Luna undertook the ceremony to summon Leviathan. It had all sounded simple enough: Noctis would go to Luna and take Leviathan's trial; Prompto, Gladio and Ignis were assigned separate duties throughout the city to help the people evacuate should the worst occur.

He should have known, he guessed, that the worst was always going to occur no matter what.

Leviathan ran rampant, angered beyond measure by the fragile mortals' demand that it aid them. Noct was forced into battle, and at that point Prompto had his hands full guiding civilians, along with a small company of Altissia guards, to higher ground where they'd hopefully be safe from the chaos caused by the Astral.

He could hear a lot of what was going on over the comms they'd been given by Camelia, simple earpieces Prompto could have whipped up in five minutes. Gladio reported on the Magitek engines making their way in; Ignis called out that an engine was approaching Luna and that Noctis needed a way up to Leviathan fast.

Prompto had already noticed some sort of zippy little flier while they were scouting out paths for the evacuees earlier. At Ignis's words, Prompto grinned wildly, turned command over to the nearest guardsman, and took off like a bat out of hell for the thing. It looked like a spear, almost, or one of those lances you saw medieval knights use in tournaments; Prompto gave himself thirty seconds to familiarize himself with the controls, and then he was on it, with Ignis's not-quite-calm voice in his ear directing him to Noct's location.

"Got it, babe," he said, and while Ignis sputtered, he laughed and took the fuck off.

* * *

Later, all he could think was: _I could have done more_.

Noctis had made it to Leviathan, had begun the Hydraean's trial. Prompto zipped off again, checking in to make sure his group was all right, and then -- since he hadn't heard from Ignis in a few minutes -- decided to head in that direction. If Ignis needed help, he wanted to be there, or at least to stand by his side.

He'd almost made it to the landing when an explosion ripped apart the plaza. In the blast, Prompto nearly lost control of the flier; he managed to hold on somehow, riding the heat and smoke until he found a place to set down, an outcropping of concrete that looked stable.

Pushing through the crowd of panicking civilians, he heard someone shouting Ignis's name as if from a distance. It took him a minute to realize it was his own.

Magitek troops had hit the promenade, a surprise attack that cut off the Altissians from their escape route: Prompto took it all in, saw how the blast had hit a big section of wall and knocked rubble everywhere. Several bodies lay strewn, the most immediate victims of the explosion. Nearby, a woman was keening and holding a child in her lap. Prompto felt his gorge rise, swallowed hard against the bile in his mouth. He managed to climb over the rubble and moved further on, towards the sound of fighting: _there_ , just around a corner--

Amazingly, some of the civilians were rallying, fighting back against the MTs. Prompto saw a man in a polo shirt clocking a trooper on the head with a section of pipe, saw a woman knocking down another trooper and tearing its helmet off, screaming. And beyond them-- 

_Oh God._

His gun was in his hand before he knew it. One MT sniper went down, then another, rattling suits of armor flying back from the body they had been rushing toward: a familiar shape, slender in black, face a mask of blood. Prompto screamed defiance and rushed at the last couple of troopers, axemen who seemed unimpressed by the slight young man coming at them.

By the time he reached them, they weren't anything anymore.

Prompto skidded to his knees at Ignis's side, panting for breath. "No," he breathed, "no no _no_ ," and gathered Ignis's head into his lap, tried to smooth away some of the blood. Ignis's head rolled limply. Swallowing hard, Prompto yanked off the bandanna tied to his arm and started mopping up blood. It was mostly coating one side of Ignis's face, seeping into his hair and down his neck; when Prompto reached his temple, Ignis gave a sudden sharp cry and jolted, one hand coming up to grab at Prompto's hand.

" _No_ \--" Ignis moaned.

"It's OK, it's OK, oh gods, it's OK, I'm here," Prompto babbled, heedless of the voices shouting over the comm in his ear. "Ignis, it's me, you're all right."

"The people," Ignis rasped. He'd inhaled some smoke, Prompto thought, and glanced around. Most of the people around them were slowly picking themselves up, dazed, faces smeared with smoke and grime. Now the crying began: one by one, the dead were being discovered by the living. Overhead, another Magitek engine zipped through the sky, this one apparently unconcerned about doing any more damage.

Somehow, Gladio's voice made it through the confusion in his ears: "Prompto!" he barked, loud enough that he winced.

Transferring the bandanna to his other hand, Prompto tapped the earpiece. "Yeah, I'm here."

Gladio's voice went quieter and harder all at once. "Noct won the Hydraean's blessing," he said. "I got my people out. How's it going on your end?"

He was holding something back. Prompto swallowed hard, looked down at Ignis, gone limp in his lap again. "Ignis is hurt," he said.

"Fuck," Gladio said. "What about the civilians?"

"Most of 'em got out. I--" Prompto felt his voice starting to break, couldn't control it. "We need help, Ignis is in really bad shape. I don't know if I should move him."

"We'll get someone over there." Gladio went silent for a long moment, and then, as if he were forcing the words out: "Lunafreya is dead."

The words didn't make sense. Lunafreya? The Oracle? Dead? It couldn't be. He still hadn't met her, hadn't had the chance to thank her. Noctis hadn't seen her since they were kids. It wasn't fair.

He bent over Ignis's semi-conscious body and began to wail.

* * *

The next few hours were something of a blur. Prompto had kept cleaning Ignis's face until Gladio arrived in some kind of special transport boat made for emergencies. Around Ignis's left eye was the worst; the flesh looked like raw hamburger, pink and puffy, with bits of shattered stone embedded in his skin. His glasses had been blown off, too; Prompto couldn't find them. Fortunately, the transport was manned by emergency workers who took Ignis to start treating him immediately, while Gladio helped a shaking Prompto into the boat after them.

"I won't leave him," Prompto said. "I'm not leaving him."

"I know, but we need to give them room to do their job," Gladio told him, an arm firm around Prompto's shoulders as the boat's captain turned them back toward where they'd come from. "We're going to the hospital now. They'll make sure he's OK, Prom."

There was something about Gladio's voice that felt too tight, too controlled. Prompto swallowed hard and looked up at his friend. Gladio, too, was dirty and bloody from the fighting, though he appeared to have taken no major injuries. His eyes didn't meet Prompto's, though; he was looking somewhere off in the distance.

"Where's Noct?" Prompto asked.

"They got him taken care of first," Gladio said. "He's already at the hospital. There's a team of doctors fussin' over him, but I don't think anything's really wrong with him. He just needs to sleep and get his strength back. The trial took a lot out of him."

"He'll be OK," Prompto murmured, and Gladio nodded, ducked his head a moment.

"So will Iggy," Gladio said, as if to change the subject.

Prompto looked toward the front of the boat, where the emergency workers, having set Ignis up on an IV and made sure he was stable, were now busily cleaning the wound at his temple. Ignis moaned, a sound of raw pain, and Prompto jerked forward. Only Gladio's arm held him in place until he subsided.

"I'm not stupid," Gladio said, suddenly, in almost a conversational tone.

"Huh?" Prompto, who'd been staring at Ignis and gnawing at a fingernail, jerked up at that. "What are you talking about?"

"You and Iggy." Gladio's eyes were focused on their friend, now, his face solemn. "I don't know if Noct knows, but I figured it out pretty quick. You guys get credit for bein' subtle, though, I'll give you that."

"Oh," Prompto said, feeling slow. "Uh, we, we were gonna tell you."

"Yeah, I didn't think you'd want to keep it a secret forever." Gladio's arm had relaxed on Prompto's shoulder; now it squeezed him close. "Bein' honest, I'm kind of glad. Not a lot of people I'd trust to treat Ignis right."

"Only thing I want to do," Prompto said, his throat going tight. Ignis was going to be OK, he had to. He _had_ to.

"'Course, if you hurt him, I'll kill you," Gladio added, and it was so very matter-of-fact, so _Gladio_ , that Prompto couldn't help but choke out a laugh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last of what I had written in advance (I've somehow been keeping about a chapter ahead, for the most part), so from here on in updates will be less regular. At least for now I can assure you that I'm still completely possessed by this thing; I don't know how much further it has to go, though. I may end up recapping the entire game if somebody doesn't take my keyboard away... At any rate, I wanted to thank everyone for all the kudos and comments. It has seriously meant the world to me.


	9. Chapter 9

Prompto lost track of how much time he spent in a bland waiting room outside the OR. Ignis had been taken in at once, under a fog of medical terminology and more people in white; Gladio went to check on Noctis, leaving Prompto to trail after Ignis until he suddenly -- almost literally -- ran into a woman telling him he couldn't go any further, that he'd have to wait.

"Are you a close relative?" she asked him.

"He's--" Prompto swallowed hard, blurted, "my boyfriend."

The woman's dark eyes softened in sympathy, but she stayed where she was. "I'm so sorry. We're doing everything we can for him. We'll let you know as soon as there's any word. Here--" And she showed him to a nearby waiting room, where a television mindlessly blared images of the day's destruction, shaky views of Luna and Noctis collapsed at the summoning altar, ruined Altissia.

Prompto sank into the closest chair and sat there, head in his hands, shaking for a little while. Eventually Gladio reappeared and sat next to him. "Noct's sleeping normally," he reported. "I'm going to get him back to the Leville once they're satisfied he's fine."

"Good," Prompto whispered.

"Any news on Ignis?"

"Nothing yet. They said they'll let us know ASAP." Prompto stared at his hands, his fingernails rimed with soot and blood.

"Why don't you go clean up a bit? I'll wait here," Gladio said, not without sympathy.

"I'd rather stay," Prompto muttered.

"Hm. Let me rephrase that," Gladio said, and leaned in. "Go clean up a bit. They're not going to come out in the next two minutes. You look like shit."

Managing a smile he didn't feel, Prompto got up to find the nearest restroom.

* * *

Gladio wasn't wrong. Prompto was as grimy and dirty as the people he'd seen at the plaza where he'd found Ignis, as bloody as some of the people being brought into the hospital now. He turned the water on hot, peeled his gloves off and stuffed them in a pocket, began soaping up. There were more little cuts and abrasions on his arms he hadn't noticed, and he hissed as he washed as best he could given the limited amount of space and time.

He didn't notice he was crying until he got soap in his eyes. He decided to blame the tears on that.

* * *

Prompto drifted off a little while they were waiting to hear back about Ignis. The day had lengthened into evening, into full night, before a doctor came out from the back where they'd taken Ignis; Gladio nudged a dozing Prompto, who sat up and then stood abruptly when the doctor came in.

"He's stable," was the first thing the woman said, and Prompto let out a breath he hadn't been aware he was holding. "We've done the best we can in cleaning and treating his injury, but..." Now she shook her head, and Prompto swallowed.

"What? What is it?"

"His eyes were badly injured as well. They're intact, but we're worried about some of the optic nerves and how they're reacting. Or, rather, how they aren't." She held up a hand as Prompto bit his lip hard. "It's too soon to say for sure how he'll heal. For right now, he needs to rest. He's being moved to a room upstairs, and we'll have the information for you in just a few minutes. I promise you, we're doing everything in our power to help him."

As she went out, Prompto sank down to the chair again, staring up at Gladio, who stood stock-still next to him.

"She didn't mean that, did she?" Prompto's voice wavered a good bit more than he would have liked. "She couldn't... she couldn't mean that he'd be b--"

"Don't say it," Gladio said, and Prompto saw that Gladio's hands were in fists. "We've lost too much today already. We can't even _think_ about losing anything else."

Prompto pressed the heels of his hands hard against his eyes. White sparks danced in his vision. He'd never prayed before, but he heard himself muttering the names of the Six under his breath, offering anything he could if Ignis would just be all right again.

* * *

Distantly, Prompto knew he was exhausted, hungry, that he still needed a real shower. None of that registered much while he waited. Gladio was functioning better than him, somehow; he got cups of terrible-tasting coffee for them from a vending machine, a couple of bottles of water, some chips and cookies that he made Prompto eat. None of it seemed to fill him up, but at least he wasn't passing out when the nurse came back to tell them Ignis was transferred to a room and they could go see him.

The walk up there seemed interminable -- an elevator, long sterile corridors -- but finally they found the right area. Ignis's door had been left partially ajar; a curtain was drawn to obscure him from any passing glances.

"Go on," Gladio murmured, when Prompto hesitated in the entryway. Prompto stepped in and peered around the curtain.

Ignis had been changed into a hospital gown, his arms resting above the covers. He was asleep, his chest rising and falling steadily. That alone made Prompto breathe out in relief. He reached for a chair and dragged it closer to the bed as he took in the sight of Ignis's face, and as he did, he sat down hard. 

The left side of Ignis's face was completely covered in bandages. More gauze wrapped around his eyes like the world's weirdest blindfold. His hair had been cleaned; brushed back from his forehead, and combined with the absence of his glasses, it gave him a stark, oddly vulnerable look.

Prompto reached for Ignis's hand, swallowing hard. "Hey, buddy," he tried, and then had to put his head down, throat working.

"He's asleep," Gladio said, soft, from where he stood next to Prompto. "They said he needs rest right now."

"I know," Prompto managed, his eyes finding Ignis's damaged face again. "I just want him to hear our voices and know we're here."

"He does." Gladio's comforting hand came to rest at Prompto's nape. "I'm sure he does."

* * *

Prompto jerked awake from sound sleep to the awareness that something was different.

He'd fallen asleep at some point, he didn't know how long ago, draped across Ignis's bed, and his back twinged as he sat up. It must be nighttime now, maybe even early morning; outside the room, the hospital had gone quiet and still, aside from a faint beeping far off.

His attention turned at once to Ignis, whose head had shifted on the pillow. He was trying to move-- no, he was trying to push himself up on his elbows. Was he awake?

"Hey, hey there," Prompto said, scooting closer and reaching for Ignis's hand again. "Just relax there, Iggy, it's OK."

"Prompto?" Ignis said, and Prompto's heart broke. He'd never heard Ignis so fragile, so weak. His voice was barely more than a whisper. "Prompto, where are you?"

"I'm right here." Prompto squeezed Ignis's hand, forcing down the pain in his throat. "I'm next to you. You've got some bandages on your eyes, that's why you can't see me. You're OK, just lay back."

"Wh-what happened?" Obediently, Ignis settled back again, his face turning toward where Prompto's voice came from. Swallowing hard, Prompto wrapped his other hand around Ignis's. His own felt cold.

"We won," Prompto said. There may not have been much good news, but he could start with that. "Noctis got Leviathan's blessing. Almost everyone in Altissia made it to safety, and we kicked the Empire's tail." That wasn't quite true -- apparently at some point during the battle, the Imperial Army had turned as one and left, but no-one knew why, and Prompto didn't really care.

"What else?"

He wouldn't be satisfied with that, of course. "Noctis got, uh, knocked unconscious. He's gonna be all right, though. They just want him to spend some time resting. Gladio's with him, he took him back to the Leville once he got all checked out to make sure his brain wasn't leakin' out his ears."

Prompto swallowed before he went on. He could see dark shadows under the bandages covering Ignis's eyes. "L-lady Lunafreya's dead." Ignis let out a soft breath, a choked sound. "Gladio said that Ardyn killed her. Someone saw him at the summoning altar with a knife. It was too late by the time anyone could get there."

"Poor Luna," Ignis murmured. "To have come so far and fought so long. May she rest in the grace of the Six."

Nodding, Prompto dashed a hand across his eyes again. He still hadn't quite managed to accept it himself.

"And what of me?" Ignis asked. It was so like him, Prompto thought, to put concern about himself to the last.

"You, uh, there was an explosion," Prompto said. "Some MTs. They got a bunch of Altissians trapped on a plaza and then triggered it. Do you remember any of that?" His hands squeezed Ignis's.

"Not right now, but it might come back to me. Is that--?" Ignis's free hand came up to touch his temple; then he hissed and dropped his hand again.

Prompto nodded, then made a face. _He can't see you, dumbass_. "Yeah. It knocked you out. I got there just when it hit, but I took care of the MTs, at least. By then it was all almost over, anyway. They, um, the doctor said you've got some nerve damage, and they're. They're worried about your eyesight. That's why you're all bandaged up right now. You're gonna have a scar, probably, too."

"Ah." Ignis went quiet for a moment, his hand more gingerly feeling the gauze covering his eyes. In the stark overhead light, shadows hollowed his cheeks, made his skin waxy where it wasn't coming up ugly bruises; Prompto saw a soft growth of whiskers, barely even a five o'clock shadow, nonetheless underscoring the difference from Ignis's normal fastidious cleanliness. "Perhaps I should be careful, lest Gladio think I'm trying to imitate him."

"Never happen," Prompto said, in some relief. He pushed up so that he could lean over the bed, touching Ignis's jaw with his fingers; Ignis stilled, then, and Prompto bent to press the softest kiss he dared to Ignis's lips.

"It's a little disconcerting that I can't see when you're doing that," Ignis murmured afterwards, his hand having found Prompto's shoulder somehow.

"Won't be for very long," Prompto said, truly believing it.

* * *

There was another surgery, the next day. Once Ignis had been taken away for it (with one final handgrip, and a kiss to Ignis's knuckles before they took him off on the gurney), Gladio dragged Prompto down the hall and out of the hospital.

"You're gettin' some real food in you, and then a shower. No arguments," he said, and so Prompto meekly followed.

Once he'd eaten, he had to admit Gladio had a point. He hadn't felt hungry, but when the waitress put down plates of pancakes and bacon and country-fried garula steak, Prompto's appetite took over. He ate everything put in front of him, drank orange juice and two cups of coffee; when he sat back at last, giving a contented belch, his stomach felt distended.

"I haven't eaten like that in forever," he declared.

"Good," Gladio said, and Prompto looked over at him. Gladio had eaten, too, though not nearly as much as Prompto.

"How are you holding up?" Prompto asked.

"I'll be better when Noct wakes up." Gladio reached for the check the waitress had discreetly left on the table at some point. "He's sleepin' naturally, at least, but it's been, what, somethin' like eighteen hours now? If he's trying to escape from everything..." After a moment, Gladio shook his head, getting out his wallet to pay the check. "He has to wake up eventually."

"He will," Prompto said, feeling optimistic with his belly full. "He will, and we'll keep goin', do whatever we have to do."

"Mm. For now, we're gonna get you cleaned up. You could probably stand with some rest too."

"I want to be there when Ignis comes back," Prompto protested, but he pushed out of the booth when Gladio did, following him out of the restaurant. It was kind of nice having Gladio take charge and get him moving; if not for him, Prompto would probably be sitting around starving in an empty hospital room.

"He'll be asleep from the surgery, probably." Gladio slung an arm around Prompto's shoulder as they started back towards the Leville. "This way you can at least be presentable when he gets back."

Prompto sighed, leaned into Gladio's solid warmth for a moment. "Thanks," he said, and smiled at Gladio's chuckle.

"Dunno what for, but you're welcome."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank God for Gladio, is all I can say.


	10. Chapter 10

"The damage to his optic nerves and the retinas is fairly severe. It's only lucky that he wasn't directly in line of the blast, or he might have lost the eyes completely. As it is..." The doctor trailed off, looking from Gladio to Prompto and back again. "You have to understand that your friend may very well never see again."

"No," Prompto breathed out, an automatic denial. Next to him, Gladio's hand gripped the arm of the chair.

"He's the King's right-hand man," Gladio said. "He needs his vision to be able to serve him."

"I understand that very well." The doctor's eyes were sympathetic as she watched them. "Chancellor Claustra made it quite clear to me. But trauma of this nature is not so simply treated, and your friend is lucky to be alive at all." She stood; she'd brought them out in the hall to talk to them, finding the closest grouping of chairs. "Believe me, we are going to keep doing what we can. And spontaneous visual recovery has been known to occur, but it is an outside chance, not a guarantee."

"Yeah," Gladio said, quiet, while Prompto sniffed and nodded.

"In the meantime, he is recuperating quite well, and if he's willing, we'll start working with him to get around in the next day or two. Will you be here?"

"I will," Prompto said, before Gladio could say anything. 

The doctor smiled at that, a bit more naturally. "I'll see you then, I suppose."

As she headed down the hall, Prompto dragged a tissue out of his pocket and blew his nose. "Guess we'd better go tell him the news," he said, as Gladio stood.

"You're such a wreck," Gladio snickered.

"Am not!" 

As it turned out, they needed to say very little.

"I overheard you talking in the hallway," Ignis said without preamble when they went into his room. 

"Ears like a bat," Gladio grumbled. "Heard it all, I guess?"

"I did, yes. Though I appreciate your attempt to soothe my feelings, I hope you know that I would rather be up front with the truth." He reached out a hand; without thinking, Prompto took it, sitting a hip on the bed and tangling their fingers together. "Ah, er--"

"He knows," Prompto said. "About you and me."

"Though I give you two credit for keepin' it on the DL as long as you did," Gladio said, settling into the chair where Prompto had fallen asleep last night. "Wish you'd said something earlier, though."

"We didn't wish to take away from your newly discovered relationship with Noctis," Ignis said. "And you're not changing the subject that easily. I'm to start therapy, the doctor said?"

"In the next day or two," Prompto replied. "When you're feeling up to it."

"The sooner the better, then." Ignis nodded firmly. "We can't stay here forever. We must keep moving if we are to find the Crystal and return it to Lucis. How is Noctis? Still asleep?" At Gladio's nod and then hasty murmured assent, Ignis sighed. "I suppose we can't go anywhere until he wakes, but we should begin to make plans. Gladio, can you start asking around? Perhaps Weskham has some information or a lead. We'll have to secure an alternate method of transportation, as well."

"Uh, I-I can drive? Or Noctis?" Prompto's heart suddenly sped at the thought of driving the Regalia, considering the one time he'd done so was when, barely out of Insomnia, the engine had died, forcing their stay in Hammerhead. It felt like years ago now.

If Ignis noticed his increased heartrate, he didn't say anything. "Perhaps, but we're not as familiar with Accordo or Niflheim. There may not even be roads to take us where we need to go. Prompto, would you look into what you can find? I know there's an extensive rail system across the continent, if nothing else."

"Sure." It felt good to have some sense of direction, even if they didn't know yet where they were going. Prompto squeezed Ignis's hand and felt the pressure returned. 

"At any rate, we shouldn't count on my vision for the time being. I'll get started on whatever therapy they have planned for me as soon as possible." Ignis sounded resigned, determined; Prompto ran his thumb over Ignis's knuckles. "I cannot be a hindrance to Noctis in this."

"You won't be," Prompto said, before Gladio could speak.

Gladio shut his mouth on whatever he'd been about to say; he shook his head and stood up. "I'm gonna go check up on Sleeping Beauty and then see what I can find out. Anything comes up, I'll give you a call. Later, Specs," he added as he left the room.

Prompto turned toward Ignis, shifting on the bed to get a little more comfortable. "You really sure you're up for this so soon? I mean, it's only been a couple of days."

Ignis would have looked away, Prompto thought, if his eyes were visible. "I'm feeling much better, and I'm informed my progress is good. If the staff here thinks I'm ready, then I must be."

"And I'll be here for you the whole time," Prompto said. "Anything you need, you got it."

"Prompto," Ignis said. His voice was quieter, weary somehow.

"What? You need something? I can get--"

"It's not that," Ignis said, and Prompto, half-risen from his seat on the bed, settled again. "I don't... Prompto, I can't ask this of you."

"What are you talking about? Of course you can." Prompto shook his head, confused, curling his leg under him so he could sit closer to Ignis. "You're--you're my--I'm here for you, you have to know that. Even if we weren't..."

Ignis's throat worked, his lips tightening and then relaxing again. "What are we?" he asked, after a moment. "This thing, what we've been doing."

"I, uh." Prompto swallowed. This felt like a pop quiz, and he was never any good at those. "I don't know? I told the nurse before that you're my boyfriend. I mean, after everything we did, I was sort of hoping." He looked down at their hands, Ignis's scraped-raw knuckles still tender from where he'd caught himself on the stone of the plaza. His own hands weren't much better, though he'd at least managed to get all the dirt out from under his nails. "I -- I just want to be with you," he said softly. "No matter what happens. You're. You're so important to me, Ig. When I saw you after the explosion, and I thought for a split second you were dead, it was like I couldn't even breathe. I couldn't lose you." His voice had begun to shake, his throat gone tight. "I mean, if you don't want me around anymore, I'll... I won't understand, but I'll do whatever you need."

"Oh, for gods' sake, Prompto, come _here_ ," and Ignis was pulling him down, cradling him against his chest, both arms wrapped around him. Prompto sniffled hard as Ignis pressed a kiss into his hair. 

"What sort of fool have I fallen in love with," Ignis said, quiet now, and Prompto swallowed a gulp and lifted up to look at Ignis, heedless of the fact that he couldn't see Ignis's eyes.

"Well, then I'm _your_ fool," Prompto said, fervent, and cupped Ignis's cheeks -- gently, mindful of the raw skin under his bandages -- to kiss him softly. 

When a nurse came in later to take Ignis's vitals, he stepped back and closed the door again, letting the two of them stay asleep rather than disturb them.

* * *

It was another week before Noctis woke up. 

Prompto was beginning to genuinely get scared. Noctis was a fan of sleeping in, it was true, but even he had never gone this long. Gladio said it was normal sleep -- even the Chancellor's personal physician stopped in to take Noctis's vitals and make sure he wasn't in need of any special attention -- but it still seemed weird to Prompto, if not downright eerie.

In between going to therapy with Ignis and working on finding out the best way for them to get to Gralea (where, they had decided, it made the most sense for the Imperials to be keeping the Crystal), Prompto took turns watching over Noctis, spelling Gladio. He thought Gladio might stay there forever, in a seat nearby or sitting on the bed watching Noctis, if someone didn't occasionally come around to pry him out of the room and remind him to eat and shower. 

Ignis was still in the hospital, though not for much longer; they'd removed the bandages from his eyes and given him a pair of heavy-duty shades to protect his sensitive eyes from light, and the scarring on the side of his face was healing well. Once he began to get the hang of the utility cane they'd provided, he wouldn't need to be there anymore, Prompto thought. He took a little shopping trip to find at least a more stylish cane -- one that would still work for its purpose of sounding out Ignis's path for him -- and decent glasses. Ignis would want that, he hoped.

The worst part was not really knowing where or when he should help. He wanted to give Ignis an arm to guide him or a shoulder to lean on, but the physical therapist had told him Ignis needed to learn independence, as much as possible, for his own dignity and sense of self. 

And Prompto got that. But seeing Ignis nearly walk into some piece of therapy equipment, a short staircase or box, and then curse at himself for not knowing it was there, made Prompto wince and bite hard on his lip. So he did what he could: brought a set of clean clothes for Ignis to wear when he was released, tidied up, tried to make sure their room at the Leville was as clear and navigable as possible. He closed his eyes and walked around the room with his arms out, experimentally: that worked until he barked his shins on a coffee table and fell over, groaning.

He could almost hear Ignis telling him to stop playing around. He squeezed his eyes shut and got to his feet again.

* * *

"Can I--" Prompto offered, and Ignis reached out his hand. With a rush of gratitude, Prompto held out his arm until Ignis's hand found and rested on it.

Ignis had been more than ready to leave the hospital for three days; he'd gotten to the point of snapping at the nurses, being surly even to the doctor, who had been nothing but patient and kind to him. Prompto had almost said something at one point, but somehow common sense kept him quiet: he couldn't know what Ignis was going through, or how frustrated and irritated his lack of vision had to be making him. 

And so far, there hadn't been any sign of improvement. Prompto remembered the doctor saying how unlikely spontaneous recovery was, but he refused to give up hope.

At least they could finally get out of the hospital. Gladio waited for them at the hotel; Prompto had already traced the route to make sure it wouldn't be too difficult for Ignis. One block over to the gondola station, a leisurely ride through the canals, and then they'd be deposited almost at the Leville's front door.

"Sun feels good," he said, almost absent, as they emerged from the building. Ignis paused, lifting his face, and then nodded.

"It does," was all he said, and let Prompto lead him forward. There was a dicey moment as Ignis got into the gondola, which rolled just a little under him; but he found his balance in a moment and sat down easily enough. Prompto took one of the seats diagonal to him so he could watch Ignis as they started off.

The bandage had been removed from his left eye and temple; the doctors had used some form of curative, similar to what went into their battle potions, to speed the healing of the tissue there. In the light, it still looked red and angry.

"So I've been thinking," Prompto said. "If we're going to head on, the best way's going to be by train. I talked to a couple people, and we can store the Regalia in a cargo car for an extra fee, bring it with us. There's a route that goes straight into Gralea."

Ignis nodded, his hands folded over the head of the cane, which he'd propped between his knees. "I'd like to see if we can go through Cartanica," he said. "I overheard some orderlies talking about an enormous tree that's grown there recently, and that it halted some new construction. I've a vague memory there might be a royal tomb there worth investigating."

Prompto bit his lip. "You think? I guess we should probably keep after those, huh."

"Every asset we can find will need to be used." Ignis seemed so remote, distant in the bright sunlight. Behind the glasses, his eyes were closed; Prompto didn't know if he was keeping them shut on purpose or not.

"Yeah, good point." Prompto nodded, looked down. 

"Prompto, I need you to be honest with me," Ignis said suddenly, and Prompto's gaze snapped up to him. "Tell me how severe the scarring is?"

"Oh! Uh," and Prompto shifted a little closer so he could reach to touch Ignis's cheek. "It's still a little vivid, but probably 'cause it's still healing. It kinda looks like a flame around your eye." He traced an edge, not letting his gloved fingertips actually touch the scar itself. "Like a cool tattoo or something."

"Not one I think I'd choose," Ignis said, somehow managing the slightest smile. "Still, that's a relief. I hope I'm not a vain man, but I hope I don't have to go through life with people cringing away from me."

"Not a chance." Prompto let his hand drop to Ignis's knee. "I'd still do ya any day of the week."

" _Prompto_ ," Ignis hissed, but Prompto only laughed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy crap, you guys, if you need a visual of THAT SCENE look at what @dirtyhecker drew over on Tumblr. It is gorgeous and I demand you look at it now go [look at it right now](http://dirtyhecker.tumblr.com/post/156421334042)


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been futzing with this for too long now, so here you go.

Back at the hotel, Noctis still hadn't woken. Ignis offered to take over sentry duty for a little while, and while he seemed a bit shaky on his feet yet, he walked into Noctis's room and found a chair with just a few sweeps of his cane, then settled himself into it.

"Go on," he said to a bemused Gladio. "I need some time alone to think, anyway. I'll let you know should anything change."

"You sure?" Gladio asked, but Ignis waved him off.

Shaking his head, Prompto took Gladio's forearm to tug him from the room. "You ever tried arguing with Ignis?" he asked, and Gladio shook his head in amusement and let Prompto drag him out.

Once they were in the suite's main room, however, Gladio kept going, leading Prompto out to the balcony. He closed the doors behind them; out here, they could hear the hubbub from below, people going about their days, distant machinery working on cleaning the ruined districts of Altissia so that they could begin rebuilding.

Gladio turned to lean back on the balcony rail, his hands spread to either side. "So," he said. "How's he holding up?"

"Keeping a stiff upper lip," Prompto said, and came over to join Gladio at the railing. "You know. Only thing he asked me was how bad the scar is."

Gladio grunted, folding his arms. "I gotta tell you something now, and I know you're not gonna like it. And he won't, either. Or Noctis. But someone has to think about these things." Ignoring Prompto's trepidatious look, he went on: "Ignis is gonna be a weak link for a while. Maybe for good. He's not used to fighting without his sight, and he could get us hurt while he learns."

"But--!" Prompto started, a rush of heat going through him at the thought of leaving Ignis behind.

"Let me finish," Gladio said. "I'm not saying I don't want him with us. We can't just leave him here while we go on to Gralea. He wouldn't sit here and take that, anyway. But if there's any kind of situation, I'm gonna have to say he stays out of it. It's safer for everyone, him included."

"But," Prompto said, softer this time. "But we can't."

"What do you suggest we do?" Gladio turned, now, resting his arms on the railing. "I don't want Ignis to get hurt, you know that. He's my best friend." His voice was soft, now, and Prompto saw how Gladio had been struggling with this. "And I know Noctis will fight me on this, when he wakes up. But I'm trying to look out for all of us."

"I know." Sighing, Prompto leaned next to Gladio. "I mean, I don't want Ignis to get hurt, either. I just know he's not gonna go along with any of that. He needs to still feel useful, like he's part of the group. Right now, he's... He's all focused on getting us moving again. I don't know if he's thinking about anything else."

"Well, don't tell him about this yet." Gladio bumped Prompto's shoulder with his own. "Let's just deal with getting Noctis back in shape first."

"Works for me," Prompto said, with some relief.

* * *

"He's awake."

Ignis closed the door to Noctis's bedroom behind himself as he came into the suite's main room. His brief statement was enough to make both Gladio and Prompto sit up: Gladio had been sitting and reading, while Prompto nearly fell off the sofa on which he'd been sprawled.

"Finally!" he said, and pushed to his feet; before he moved any further, though, Ignis shook his head. 

"Let him be for just a bit," Ignis said, and Prompto sank back onto the couch, visibly deflating. As Gladio turned to look at the closed door, Ignis found a chair next to his and settled into it. "I told him about Luna. He's rather shaken."

"Did he see--?" Prompto started to ask, a hand fluttering uselessly to his own face. Ignis nodded, and Prompto swallowed hard.

Gladio visibly twitched. "I've gotta," he said suddenly, and got to his feet. Before either of the others could stop him, he got up and went to the bedroom, stepping inside and shutting the door again. Prompto could hear Noctis's voice, muffled, then Gladio's in response. When they went quiet, he glanced back at Ignis.

"Well, I suppose it can't hurt." Ignis shrugged, looking down, his eyes impossible to see behind the glasses. "This has been hard on Gladio, too."

"You're not wrong." Prompto got up again, dropping his phone to the coffee table and wandering over to the kitchenette. "Want some water or something?"

"Is there coffee?" 

"I can make some." Prompto found the instant packets -- he knew it wasn't the greatest, but they'd have to order room service for fresh -- and started the electric kettle, which already had water in it from when he'd had a random yen for tea earlier.

"You don't have to," Ignis sighed, though it was clearly already too late. Prompto nearly missed the note of resignation in his voice, preoccupied with getting a mug. 

"I -- I don't mind?" he said. "Almost done, anyway."

"I appreciate it," Ignis replied, and then Prompto was distracted by the kettle going off.

* * *

Cartanica was pretty much straight-up awful. The train trip there had been miserable -- Prompto thought he'd enjoy traveling by train, the world speeding by their windows while they avoided all the stress and hassle of driving -- made worse by Gladio exploding at Noctis in a final attempt to stir Noctis from his silent bubble of misery.

Privately, Prompto thought Noctis should be allowed to wallow for at least a little while. He'd never really grieved when Regis died, and now, with one of his closest friends since childhood gone and the sudden weight of the world on his shoulders, Noctis needed to process. But Prompto knew he was thinking about things on a different level than Gladio was; Gladio, as the son of Regis's Shield, had a much better sense of what Lucis and the world expected of Noctis. Prompto only knew something about a prophecy and the Crystal, and even that he was a bit fuzzy on.

"Dude, I'm just here for moral support," he'd told Noctis at some point, while Noctis was explaining the point of the trip. Noctis had laughed, then, and grabbed Prompto around the neck for a hug. 

At least Noctis had been jolted out of his muteness, even if it was only to snap back at Gladio. And when they got to the train station at Cartanica, he led the way down into the swampy mess below.

Naturally, Ignis insisted on going with them. Noctis had seemed on the point of refusing to let him accompany them, but then something softened in his gaze and he agreed to it. 

"I don't need to be coddled, Prompto," Ignis said at one point, testy, as they began their descent down the muddy slope, slick and uneven underfoot. 

"Maybe I just want to walk next to you." Prompto bit his lip, looked down at his feet and the yellow mud that squelched under his boots. "Ever think of that?"

Ignis inhaled, let it out again slowly. He didn't say anything, but after a moment his hand stretched out between them. Grateful, Prompto took it, let their fingers tangle together.

"I know you don't want help," Prompto said slowly. "I, I can't help but worry for you, though. I mean, if it was me, you'd feel the same way, right? I just want to be next to you. No matter what." Glancing ahead, he saw Noctis scrambling down a slope, Gladio behind him. The two hadn't talked since the blowup on the train, and the tension between them made Prompto want to cringe.

"Slow down, Noct!" Gladio yelled now. Noctis's shoulders hunched, but he paused to wait for the others to make the descent more carefully.

Ignis sighed again. "I appreciate it," he said at last to Prompto. "If you can tell me what's coming, I may be able to be of more use."

"You're askin' me to talk? I can do that," Prompto said, with a grin.

He made a point of noting the pools of stagnant water as they approached -- and the pod of seadevils lurking in one of them. Ignis stayed back from the actual fighting, thank goodness, though he did shout over to Noctis to use certain techniques or spells at points that made it sound to Prompto almost as if he knew exactly what was happening at each moment. Then they had to restart a backup generator and get some fallen machinery out of the way; by that time, night had fallen and they had to retreat to a campground that must have been used by the construction crew before they'd abandoned the site.

Now, Prompto mused grimly as they settled in to sleep for the night, was rather the opposite of how it had been at the beginning of the trip. Noctis all but flung himself into one side of the small tent, and Gladio stoically curled up at the other, leaving Prompto and Ignis the middle. Not that they could do anything but curl up together, but it was something. Ignis curved an arm around Prompto, who laid his head on Ignis's chest with a soft sigh. 

"It'll be all right," he thought he heard Ignis whisper, and wished he had as much hope as Ignis did.

* * *

(After Ignis figured out how to finish off the malboro, Prompto felt a lot better about being hopeful again.)

* * *

Prompto could barely wait until they were back on the train and in their compartment before pulling Ignis to him and kissing him eagerly. "You were _amazing_ down there," he breathed against Ignis's lips, as the cane clattered to the floor.

"Was I?" Ignis asked, though he sounded rather pleased with himself. "Perhaps I can still make a difference after all."

"Right now, I just wanna make a difference in--" Prompto began, and then stopped, with an abrupt laugh. "OK, fuck it, my brain isn't working, I really thought I could make that sexy."

"Hm," and Ignis curved a hand between them, palm flattening over the eager bulge in Prompto's jeans. "I think I know why. Blood supply to the brain's been cut off completely, here."

" _Ohh--_ " Prompto gasped, hips pushing toward that sweet pressure. He hadn't wanted to even _think_ about any kind of sexy times with Ignis ever since the events in Altissia, and now his body was keenly reminding him of how long it had been. Ignis took a step back and to the side, fingers hooking into Prompto's belt loops to tug him along.

"Must do something about it," Ignis murmured, sitting down on the bench-bed and pulling Prompto between his knees. Those deft fingers went to work at once, undoing Prompto's belt and the fly of his jeans, while Prompto gaped down at Ignis.

"W-wait, dude, I haven't showered or anything, let me at least--" Prompto tried to take a step back. Ignis's hand sleeked into his boxer-briefs and curled around his hard cock. Prompto froze.

"I can wait," Ignis said, and sucked Prompto into his mouth.

Prompto grabbed at the bar of the bunk above them, the other hand sinking into Ignis's hair, and gave in to sheer pleasure.

* * *

He'd offered to reciprocate, but Ignis wasn't quite in the mood for it -- Prompto got it, Ignis was still dealing with the repercussions of realizing that his eyesight wasn't going to improve, even if he could still be a viable member of their party. Instead, they curled up together on the narrow bed, twining legs together, Prompto's vest laid over both of them, sharing lazy kisses until Gladio came to fetch them for dinner.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, we had to get here eventually. 
> 
> I ignored a lot of in-game dialogue in this part, partly because I didn't have access to it and partly because I felt like it. So there. =P

Alone in the dark, Prompto had plenty of time to think.

It was the only thing he really could do.

He'd awoken to find himself secured to some kind of rack, gigantic metal struts locked around his chest and his arms splayed wide and cuffed, wrists above the level of his shoulders. He'd started wriggling almost at once, and in the same moment had cried out at pain lashing through his head and neck.

"Hey!" he'd shouted, to resonating silence. "Hey! HEY! Is anyone there?!"

Through the dim light, he could make out bars, a long hallway on the other side of them. He was in some sort of prison, but the Six only knew where. How had he gotten here?

"Oh," came a crawling voice out of nowhere. Prompto jumped against his restraints, was rewarded with another wave of pain. "Look at this. Poor Prompto, all alone. So sad. So _pathetic_."

Prompto knew that voice all too well. Since the first time they'd encountered Ardyn Izunia at Galdin Quay, something had bothered him about the man. The oozing-syrup quality of his voice, perhaps: the way he taunted with false compliments, helped them while hiding behind secret smiles. He hadn't felt the least bit glad to be vindicated when they'd learned he was the Chancellor of Niflheim; it only made his manipulative games more confusing. 

"Shut up," Prompto muttered. It was empty defiance, and he knew it. Sure enough, Ardyn only laughed.

"Aren't you adorable. You'll certainly wish you had someone to talk to soon."

If the Chancellor was there, he was hidden by shadow. Prompto didn't try to look for him, didn't want to give him the pleasure of appearing desperate. 

"Where am I?" he asked instead.

Unsurprisingly, there was no response. Prompto tried twisting one arm in its shackles. The metal was tight around his wrist, unmoving: it was affixed to the same device that held him by the chest. He tried sucking in a breath, wondering if he could slip loose somehow, but the metal ribs clutched him so close that it hurt if he so much as breathed a bit too deep. He released the breath, sagging against the restraints; even through his vest and shirt, he could feel the sharp metal edges digging into him.

"They'll come for me," he said to himself. And if the others didn't -- though he had no doubt they would -- someone would have to come to feed him, to let him relieve himself. He'd have to watch for opportunities.

"You really believe that, don't you?" Ardyn's voice slunk into his ears again. Prompto gritted his teeth and fought the urge to shake his head. "Oh, it really is just too sad. Don't you remember what happened before you came here?"

Prompto blinked. He refused to give Ardyn a hint of satisfaction, but his mind raced. What _had_ happened?

They were on the train, he remembered that. They'd made it out of Cartanica with the royal arm, had returned to the train -- Prompto remembered _that_ very well indeed. More boring train travel, Prompto had been wandering around for lack of anything else to do...

He sucked in a breath and then winced as metal dug into his ribs. The pain receded almost at once, but the memory pierced sharper than a physical wound. He'd been hanging out in the dining car, watching the scenery -- the world outside, mountainous and rocky, was growing whiter and whiter as they entered the territory where, some years before, the Astral known as Shiva had been killed by the Empire. The Glacean's body continued to freeze everything for miles around, and Prompto was fascinated by the snow-capped mountains in the distance.

He remembered commenting as much to Noctis. But instead of the reaction he expected -- a casual nod or a grunt of acknowledgement -- Noctis had shouted at him in anger and started chasing him down the length of the train, even swinging at him a couple of times. Freaked out, Prompto had done the only thing he could do, which was to run.

Briefly, he'd wondered if Noctis blamed him for what had happened to Ignis. But no: if anything, Noctis blamed himself for that. Noct finally got Prompto up against a wall in the walkway between train cars, and before Prompto could splutter a reply, the train had jerked to a screeching halt and they both fell to the hard rubber flooring.

The next thing Prompto remembered was waking alone. There was gunfire and shouting, the sound of fighting and the hot burning smell of smoke in the air. Prompto had scrambled up, cursing, and headed back up through the train in search of Noct.

Instead, he'd seen Ardyn. A flicker of that long coat, that ridiculous scarf snapping in the air-- He had to be behind it, Prompto thought, behind whatever was happening. Through the windows outside he caught hints of an ongoing battle, saw Noctis warping through the middle of it, knocking down MTs and taking out snipers attacking the train. Noctis had that under control, he thought: he'd go after Ardyn, maybe pin him down long enough to get some answers out of him, or at least hold him until the others got there.

When Ardyn forced open one of the train's doors and slipped outside, Prompto waited a moment before following. There-- he was climbing one of the external ladders bolted to the outer skin of the car, maybe to get a better vantage point of the action. Above them, several MT engines hung in the air; Prompto glanced up at a flash of blue light, saw Noctis disabling them one by one. _Good_ , he thought, they'd get this taken care of and be on their way in moments.

He'd just made it to the top of the train when it shuddered into motion again. Gladio's voice came over his earpiece, indistinct: the connection was bad, he was only catching bits of words, half-syllables more than anything. It didn't matter: up ahead he saw Ardyn, standing casually on top of the train as if on solid ground. Wind from the train's motion buffeted him, dragged his scarf and coat and frills into the air, but he only glanced at Prompto with a lazy smile.

"Well! There you are," he called. "I was wondering who would come after me."

"Don't. Move." Prompto gritted, summoning his weapon with a thought. He held it up, lining Ardyn in his sights, as he approached. "Move one finger and I'll shoot."

"Oh, I wouldn't _dream_ of it." Tone dripping with innocence, Ardyn held his hands up. "Here. Take your best shot, why don't you? Oh--" And he glanced to the side.

Prompto knew better than to look, but he looked anyway, just in time to see Noctis warping down to them from the last exploding MT engine. He landed at a run and skidded to a halt in front of them.

And then everything had gone sideways. Noctis was shouting at _him_ , his anger palpable, and then-- and then--

Prompto swallowed hard. That was why his head hurt so much, why his shoulder was twinging and he could feel bruises forming on his ribs. 

Noctis had pushed him off the train.

* * *

He had to assume he was in Imperial custody. He couldn't imagine why else he'd be in some sort of prison cell. At least he wasn't being physically tortured, though if he had to choose between that and Ardyn's lazy taunts, he wasn't so sure he wouldn't choose the physical pain. 

There was no food, no water, no relief. Prompto didn't know how long he'd been here before he woke up, but with only overhead lights -- bland fluorescents that hurt his eyes -- he had no way of telling time now. He dozed off, his head drooping forward, or tried to count or hum to pass the time. After a while, he was glad he wasn't being given water; he wouldn't want to have piss stains all over his jeans when Noctis showed up to free him.

If Noctis showed up.

Prompto's stomach hurt when he thought about the rage he'd seen in Noctis's eyes. He hadn't talked to Noct much after Altissia, it was true, but it wasn't as if he'd had many opportunities. Between Noct being asleep for so long, Ignis's injuries, and then the preparation to get moving once again, they'd all been busy. He'd tried to hang out with Noct once before they'd started out on their train journey, but Noctis had said only that he didn't feel like talking. Prompto had backed off, wanting to respect his friend's needs.

But he'd known Noct for so long. They'd met properly in high school, true, but Prompto had known who Noct was long before that; even before he'd found Pryna and begun a correspondence with Lunafreya. Everyone at his grade school knew that the Crown Prince of Lucis was in _their_ school, that he was aloof and shy and arrogant and silent -- all at once; the rumor mill didn't care if their descriptions of him directly contradicted each other. If Noct had been standoffish then, Prompto knew it was only because he had a hard time fitting in. Once they'd become friends, Prompto saw so much more: Noctis's curiosity about the world, his generosity, his adoration for his father (hidden behind sarcasm, more often than not), his stubborn hard-headedness, his love of sweets and video games. The Prince of Lucis might be a slacker, but only because so much was expected of him that it occasionally overwhelmed him. 

Above all, Noct was loyal. When a couple of juniors had started picking on Prompto while he and Noct were sophomores, Noct hadn't hesitated to jump them -- though he had, at least, pulled his punches, having learned from Gladio how to take out a less-skilled opponent using humiliation as much as strength. Prompto got picked up for shoplifting in their senior year (he _hadn't_ been, but he had goofed around enough at the shop that he could see why the police would think that); Noctis sat with him at the police station until a lawyer from the Citadel arrived to get him off the hook. And that wasn't even taking in all the times he'd saved Prompto's hide from certain death while they'd fought voreteeth and behemoths, gigantoads and naga. 

"No way," he muttered to himself. He didn't know when he'd started talking, but it helped fill the silence ringing in his ears. "No way he'd leave me behind."

"You just keep telling yourself that." Ardyn's voice came out of nowhere as always, and as always it made Prompto twitch. _Fucking jump-scare bullshit. Wait 'til I get my hands on you, you piece of--_

"I wonder," Ardyn went on, breezily. "Does your dear Prince Noctis know about your true self? Does your darling Ignis? Or your dear friend Gladiolus? I wonder what they would say if they truly knew who you are."

"They wouldn't care," Prompto hissed, and then swore under his breath. He didn't want to rise to Ardyn's taunts.

"Are you so sure? I mean, Noctis _did_ push you from the train. And that's not even all. Why, your parents didn't even know the truth about you."

"Fucking leave my parents out of this." Prompto jerked against the wristcuffs and then groaned. The skin there was beginning to burn. 

"Oh, but I can't. Well, your adoptive parents: I'll most certainly leave them alone. They're innocent in this. I'm not referring to them at all."

Ardyn went maddeningly silent for so long that Prompto began to wonder if he'd given up. Finally, he spoke again. "You must be curious about where you originally came from. Shall I tell you? Wouldn't you like to know, after all these years?"

Prompto's teeth began to hurt. He belatedly unclenched his jaw and wished he could massage the muscles. While he was at it, he might as well wish for a garula steak dinner and a nice soft bed, preferably with Ignis in it.

"You were born here in Gralea," Ardyn said.

Prompto went cold all over. He sucked in a breath and spat, though his mouth was dry and summoning the saliva took an effort. "You're lying," he growled.

"Well, I suppose you're partially right. You weren't born, as such. Let us say rather that you were created. You've already met many of your brothers and sisters as you made your way here. Did you never wonder why you have that charming tattoo on your wrist?"

It was bullshit. It had to be. "I don't care," he said. "You can say whatever you want. It's all lies. I don't care."

"I seem to have struck a nerve," Ardyn said, sounding genuinely amused now. Of course this was all a godsdamned game to him. "It's true, though. I have no reason to lie about this. You were crafted in a creche, like so many others, and given a mark of designation. If you had stayed here, you no doubt would have made a fine soldier, marching off to die for Emperor and country."

"Bullshit," Prompto ground out.

"Such language! Believe me or don't, it's all the same to me. But know that your mark is a codeprint, just like that of every other so-called MT here. How you escaped your fate--" Ardyn paused there. 

"How?" Prompto couldn't help but ask now. But Ardyn had gone suddenly silent, and for a long moment Prompto thought he was done talking for the day.

"That is none of your concern," Ardyn finally said, and Prompto felt the slightest bit smug about that. "Still," he went on blithely, "I hope this helps you fill in some of the gaps in your lonely childhood. Does it hurt, knowing that you're a born and bred Imperial? What, I wonder, will your friends think?"

"They won't care!" Prompto snapped.

There was no response. Prompto let his head drop and fought back the pain in his throat. It was no good; tears spattered the concrete at his feet.

If Noctis did hate him, it would only be fair, he thought.

* * *

He had lost all sense of how long he'd been stuck in the cell when he heard, from far away, the sound of boots on concrete. For a crazy moment, he thought he was losing his mind. Everything had been so still for so long, the silence had begun to make his ears ring: he thought he could even hear his own heart beating.

But no: a light swung wildly around the corner and then came toward him, two others illuminating the figure leading them. Noctis was there, and Ignis right behind him, Gladio close on his heels. Prompto blinked at them in dull amazement. Was this another of Ardyn's tricks? Would they disappear the moment he reached for them?

Noctis was dragging the door open -- it wasn't even _locked_ \-- and then they were attacking his restraints. Weak-limbed, Prompto spilled to the floor, would have fallen completely if not for Noctis catching him. A moment later, Ignis was there, taking him into his arms, his breathing rushed and strangled.

"I told you, I _told_ you he had to be here," Noctis said, his voice rough, raw, as if he'd been screaming.

"Yes, you were right," Ignis said, irritable as he bent over Prompto. Gentle fingers stroked Prompto's hair, and he squeezed his eyes shut, swallowing -- and then coughing, his throat was so dry.

Gladio produced a canteen from somewhere and Noctis applied it to Prompto's mouth. "Take it slow, you've been here a while," he instructed Prompto, who nevertheless tried to swallow greedily. Water sloshed in his stomach and he groaned.

"How long," he asked.

"Long enough." Gladio's voice was grim.

"What--" He had to ask. He pushed up until he was sitting, the warmth of Ignis's hands on his back a comfort he desperately wanted to indulge in, and turned to Noctis. "Tell me," he said. "I need to know--"

"It was Ardyn," Noctis blurted, his eyes shining. "On the train. He made himself look like you, and you looked like him. When I saw you on top of the train, when I-- I thought I was pushing _him_ away from you--"

His voice broke, and Prompto swallowed a sob and grabbed Noctis. For a moment, he just let himself be held, Noctis's arms hard as the restraints had been around him, and then he pulled back away with a sniffle.

"I knew you'd come for me," he said. "Now let's get the fuck out of here, OK?"

He was still weak, but Gladio helped him to his feet, and then Ignis was there with the canteen, letting Prompto have a few more sips of water. "You need to eat," he said, his attempt at sternness broken by the shudder in his voice.

"Didn't have my favorite personal chef," Prompto murmured, trying to smile. Ignis choked on a laugh, and Prompto squeezed his hand.

* * *

Apparently Prompto had been brought to the heart of Gralea: Zegnautus Fortress, where the MTs had been created and the Emperor had held Niflheim in an iron grip. Something must have happened, though, because the only MTs they ran into were strange: deformed or wild, gone rogue somehow. And there was no one else in the fortress -- no one the others had seen, though Ardyn's voice had taunted them, Noctis in particular, as they'd searched the place.

Prompto wanted to keep up, he truly did; days of being restrained had left him stumbling and weak, though, and Noctis called a halt after they'd made it back through only a couple of corridors. He'd found several barracks rooms on his way; they stopped in the closest one now, Noctis using a keycard to secure the door against rogue MTs and daemons. There was a hotplate in the corner; Gladio heated water and boiled noodles while Prompto sat on one of the bunks, Ignis settling behind him to support him. On the next bed, Noctis sat heavily, dark circles under his eyes. Prompto wondered how long it had been since Noctis slept.

When Noctis rubbed his eyes with a hand, a brief glint caught Prompto's eye. "The ring," he said. "You're wearing it." 

Noctis glanced at the dark band on his finger and then nodded. "Had to," he said. "There's something here that's blocking all of us. Can't summon weapons, can't use magic."

Despite the statement, Prompto had to try; he held up his hand, but nothing appeared in it, and he let his hands fall to his lap again, head tipping to rest on Ignis's shoulder. "What happened?" he asked.

Gladio came back, done with the noodles; he had styrofoam cups for each of them. "Better than nothing," he said as he served out the portions, then sat next to Noctis and put an arm around him, pulling him in to rest.

"After... after you--" Noctis started, inhaled, started again. "After you fell, we had to keep going. We couldn't stop the train. We had to-- We stopped in Tenebrae and let all the passengers off, we couldn't let them go on into Gralea. Aranea was there. She had Biggs and Wedge take over driving the train."

Another time, the mention of Aranea might have made Prompto perk up. Now, though, Ignis's arm was around his stomach and he had a warm cup of noodles to eat -- slowly, because Ignis wouldn't let him wolf it down -- and he couldn't think of another place he wanted to be right now. 

"When we got here, we got separated," Gladio continued, while Noctis slurped down his portion of the food. "Iggy and I were on one side of it, Noct on the other. We found him, but it took a while--"

"And we're sure Ardyn engineered it to keep Noctis alone," Ignis added.

Noctis swallowed and wiped his mouth. "Wanted me vulnerable. But I found out a lot, too. The scientists here were experimenting on daemons, they... there was a plague or some sort of sickness, I don't know." He shook his head. "There were a lot of empty clothes. I think everyone here turned into daemons."

Prompto felt himself go cold. As if in response, Ignis's arm tightened around him, and he closed his eyes and finished the last of his noodles.

"We oughta get some sleep," Gladio said. "Gotta find the Crystal and get out of here."

"Indeed," Ignis murmured. "Set an alarm?"

As Prompto began to unlace his boots, he glanced up. "An alarm?"

"It seems night has fully enveloped the world," Ignis said. "We should try to get a normal night's rest, even if we won't have a sunrise to wake us."

"Not that there are windows in here anyway," Gladio pointed out.

Prompto shivered. He remembered Ignis talking about it on the train, speculating whether the days would continue to get shorter and the nights longer, with the way the Empire had been murdering Astrals and upsetting the natural balance. "Once we get the Crystal back, we can fix it, right?"

"I hope," Noctis said. He looked so tired; as Gladio gathered their empty cups and set them aside, Noctis all but fell to the mattress. Gladio got up long enough to dim the lights in the room, then came back to join him. 

_Guess they worked things out_ , Prompto thought, grateful, even as he finished with his boots and turned to Ignis, who had taken off his own shoes and was now pushing back the thin blanket covering the mattress.

"We should rest," Ignis murmured.

Prompto swallowed, nodded. "I know," he said, soft, "but--" He _was_ tired, true, and after finally eating an actual meal for the first time in days he felt swollen and sated, but he still had to press himself to Ignis, tugging him down to lay with him. Ignis came after only a moment, removing his dark glasses and setting them on the small desk between bunks; Prompto pulled the blanket over them and found Ignis's mouth with his own for a soft, needy kiss.

"I missed you so much," he whispered. "I was so afraid I'd never see you again."

"I know," Ignis replied, mouth moving against Prompto's. "I know. Me too."

Prompto closed his eyes, let his hands stroke Ignis's back, relished the closeness of him. For a little while, in the dark, he could pretend nothing had changed, that everything would be all right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I honestly don't know where this is going from here. Your guess is as good as mine.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, some game dialogue was changed or rewritten here. One of Prompto's in-game lines didn't mesh with what I came up with for his backstory from last chapter (and I'm sure that'll all be invalidated at some point if we get more info on him), plus, you know, shippy stuff.

He didn't know how long he'd be able to keep the rest of it secret. Maybe once they were out of Zegnautus and on their way home. The goal seemed almost in sight now: Noctis knew the Crystal was here, could feel it calling to him, driving him to move almost before they'd awoken the next -- well, whatever passed for a morning anymore. Gladiolus made him stop so they could all drink some water and force down some protein bars from a vending machine. All they had to do now, Noctis insisted, was find transportation -- an MT engine of some kind would do -- get the Crystal aboard it, and head back to Insomnia.

"Just like that?" Ignis asked, a skeptical eyebrow raised.

"And fight off every daemon in Gralea along the way," Gladio said, done lacing his boots and standing up again. "No big deal."

"Sure!" Prompto laughed nervously. "Sounds like fun!"

All right, then: they'd get back home and he'd talk about it then. They could laugh about it. It wouldn't matter where he was born, or made or fucking _decanted_ or whatever.

Except that before they secured a ship, they had to figure out what was sealing away Noctis's powers. Ignis, naturally, already had an idea: he'd heard some noise, a strange humming, that got louder as the four of them headed into a huge open area. Above them, MT containers shuttled back and forth, while in the center of the room, a gigantic round chamber stood as if in pride of place. Above it was mounted a device that looked like some kind of mad scientist's destruction device, lit with an eerie red glow and pointing down into the chamber itself. 

"It's here," Ignis said, sounding surer than Prompto felt.

Noctis jogged forward as they approached, leading them around to massive locked doors protecting the chamber's inner contents from tampering. Prompto followed, slower; as soon as he saw the scanner lock that secured the chamber, he recognized what sort of key would open it.

Ardyn had even told him. " _Know that your mark is a codeprint_ ," he'd said. Prompto put a hand to his head, which had begun to ring again, between the shifting of containers overhead -- a loud, echoing, constant rumble -- and the painful memory that sliced new pain behind his eyes.

"That sound's coming from within. Is there no way through?" Ignis was asking when the rushing sound receded in Prompto's ears. He was up by the door with Gladio and Noctis, who was futilely pushing the metal doors of the round cage room.

Prompto stepped over to the scanner, his movement enough to catch Noctis's eye.

"There's a way," he said, his stomach churning. _Here we go_ , he told himself, and held his wrist up to the scanner. It read the barcode, beeped. The light turned green. The doors made a quiet hydraulic sound and slid apart. 

Prompto couldn't bear the sudden silence, the feel of the others suddenly staring at him as if he'd grown a second head or third arm.

"So, MTs," he said, almost conversationally. He couldn't look at any of them. "They've got those codeprints. Just like I do."

"Do they? Never looked," Noctis said, too quickly.

"Yeah." Prompto felt himself shivering. "So. As it turns out, I'm one of them. Still," he went on, and he could feel the tears pricking at his eyes, the shame rising anew. "You guys are, like, the only friends I've ever known. I. I don't want that to change."

"Whatever," Noctis said, and there was a warmth in his tone now. "Who cares where you were born?"

"I certainly don't," Ignis said, and from the open door, Gladio snorted.

"Pretty sure you ain't gonna turn on us now," he said, arms folded.

Prompto swallowed. "Thanks," he said. "I. I know I can't change where I came from. What I am."

"Since when does where you come from matter to you?" Noctis asked, and if anything, Prompto realized, he sounded distinctly bored with the conversation. As if it didn't matter to him. "You never treated me as a prince."

"He's got you there," Gladio snickered.

"Never so much as a 'Highness'," Ignis pointed out.

"We're done here. Come on, crown citizen." Noctis gave Prompto a genuine smile and turned, heading into the chamber. Gladio was close behind him; Ignis lingered, just outside the door.

Prompto couldn't seem to move. After all of Ardyn's words, the chilling revelations he'd unfurled, the new awareness of his own identity -- and the others didn't care. 

"Prompto?" Ignis asked.

He had to close his eyes hard for a moment, lips pressing together as he struggled to compose himself. His voice still came out distressingly shaky. "Y-yeah?" 

After a moment, he heard the steady steps of Ignis's shoes, the tap of his cane as he made his way forward. Prompto turned, leaning hard against the outer wall of the chamber, and let Ignis step close into his personal space, let Ignis gather him close, lifted his head for Ignis's soft kiss.

"It's never mattered to me where you're from," Ignis said to him. "I hope you know that. It's who you are that I love."

His composure, hard-won, dissolved in an instant, and Prompto clung to Ignis, face pressed hard to his shoulder. "I love--I love you too," he said on a rushing exhale.

Against his cheek, he felt Ignis's smile.

* * *

At some point Prompto had finally realized that things weren't necessarily going to get better. (He wasn't sure if it was when they lost Noctis to the Crystal or when Ardyn removed himself to Insomnia to rule over the daemons like some demented king of hell.) Life wasn't a fairy tale, all happy endings and happy-ever-afters. The world had only gotten darker, day by day, and there was no guarantee that light might ever return to their world. 

Still, he wasn't ready to give up. Not after he'd found out who he was -- and found out it didn't matter. There was a dark period where it seemed like no one wanted to go on: the three of them had gone to Lestallum, one of the few remaining refuges against the dark since it still had a power source, and Gladio took off not long after, disappearing with only a brief word to Iris before he left.

"He said he'd be back when he was ready," Iris told them, her eyes shimmering. 

"Damned fool," Ignis had muttered, but Prompto understood. He'd be the same way if he suddenly lost Ignis.

They'd taken their old room at the hotel for a while, but as Lestallum became home to more and more people fleeing from the daemons that roamed the eternal nighttime of Eos, Prompto began to feel guilty about staying there when they could make do elsewhere. 

"Why don't we try and see if we can find some other outposts holding things together?" he asked Ignis one -- well, morning, for lack of a better descriptor -- as they were scraping together a rudimentary breakfast.

"The Hunters are still holding Meldacio, I've heard," Ignis replied. "Perhaps we could start there."

It didn't take long after that. Prompto knew Noctis would return -- he didn't know how, just had a gut feeling he would -- and it only seemed to make sense to set up a routine, to find something to occupy their existence and fight against the darkness until Noct did come back to them. He procured a car: nothing as good as the Regalia, not that anything could have compared, but good enough for their purposes and fitted with extra-bright headlights to keep daemons from attacking as they drove. 

Meldacio was the start, then. Other outposts began to stand, once the two of them could put up fencing and source lights and get Hunters stationed there. And Lestallum continued to become the continent's safest haven for those who hadn't given up hope.

Six months went by. Gladio returned unexpectedly to Hammerhead. He'd let his hair grow longer and shaggy; new scars marked his arms and chest. Prompto wept when he saw him; Ignis grasped him in a tight embrace.

(Ignis's left eye was sealed shut for good, now, and the right had gone milky and reflective. When they laid down to sleep, Prompto kissed both eyelids in silent reassurance. At least, Ignis said, he was already used to the darkness.)

"Your sister's learning to fight daemons from Cor," Ignis told him, and Gladio turned around like he was about to run straight from Hammerhead to Lestallum. They made him eat and rest and then drove him out there to see her. Iris was seventeen now and her girlish litheness had grown into solid muscle and anger. She knocked Gladio over when she saw him and then cried on his shoulder for an hour.

Aranea Highwind turned up at the end of the first year, became a steady presence patrolling the area outside Hammerhead along with Biggs and Wedge. When rumor reached them that she and Cindy (who had never left her beloved garage) were an item, Prompto couldn't help but grin at the news.

Another year went by. Then another. 

Prompto lost track of when he'd become used to the dark. Talcott celebrated his thirteenth birthday, then his fourteenth. He started to learn how to use a crossbow.

"He's too young," Prompto said, when Ignis told him about that.

"Fourteen isn't too young. Noctis began training with Gladio when he was twelve. And you're not that old," Ignis pointed out.

Prompto paused, his mouth open to rebut the point, and then stared at Ignis. "I'm almost twenty-four," he said.

"Your point?" 

Prompto couldn't think of one, so he settled for tackling Ignis to the bed of the caravan in which they were staying instead.

The waves of daemons came at them endlessly. Gladio patrolled around Lestallum, down to Alstor Slough and back. Iris and Cor teamed up to take the corridor between the city and Meldacio. Prompto sometimes wondered if it was even worth fighting the daemons; more always came. At least while the bright artificial lights lasted, people could stay safe within their shelter.

Outside Lestallum, outside the outposts, the world was endless night. How long could they continue to live like this? Nothing grew beyond the light anymore. Plant life had all withered and died without sunlight; animal populations had dwindled, between the daemons and the severing of the food chain. If -- _when_ \-- the light came back, there might not even be anaks or garulas or anything anymore.

Five years. Six. Seven.

Prompto wanted to keep hope alive. He tried. 

Eight years. Nine.

"Tell me he's coming back, Ignis," he whispered in bed, bared to Ignis, their arms around each other, still panting and shivering from orgasm.

"He will," Ignis said.

And then he did.

* * *

At first, Prompto couldn't believe his eyes. His mental image of Noctis had faded only slightly in the past ten years, but he still remembered Noctis's lean form, his spiky black hair, the shine in his blue eyes. What took him aback was the shadow of whiskers across Noctis's jaw, the shaggy length of his hair.

"I don't believe it," he said, just before Gladio came out of the diner (even though it wasn't a diner, hadn't been for years) and stood stock still at the sight of Noctis.

"It's me," Noctis said, his voice grainy, and then Gladio closed the distance between them.

"Welcome back," Ignis said, quiet. Prompto chuckled, even as he blinked hard against tears.

"Never mind," he said to Ignis. "They already forgot we're here."

"Under the circumstances, I can't say as I blame them." Ignis's hand found Prompto's and squeezed. Prompto returned the pressure, his throat tight.

* * *

In ways, it was as if the past decade had been preparing them for this moment. Noct, having apparently just been released from the Crystal in which he'd been imprisoned, wanted to waste no more time; he had the blessing of Bahamut now, and with the Ring of the Lucii fully charged, he intended to fulfill his duty and destroy the Starscourge, to bring light back to the world.

Prompto couldn't blame him for being ready to go; even Gladio, who hadn't been able to stop looking at Noctis as if he couldn't believe he was real, agreed that he was ready to move at once. It was Ignis, strangely, who opposed them.

"We'll go," he said, when Noctis opened his mouth to protest. "But we'll go prepared. We face an unknown challenge; we must be as ready as we can be."

Which was how they found themselves, once more, around a campfire at a haven warded by runes strong and ancient enough to hold even the strongest daemons at bay. As if in a dream, Prompto watched Ignis moving effortlessly to the prep table and begin to work; Gladio set up the tent on auto-pilot; Noctis set out the chairs and stoked the fire. Once Gladio was done with his work, he handed folded packets of clothing to each of them.

"It's time," was all he said, and Prompto ducked his head and nodded, ducked into the tent to change.

They'd never worn the official Crownsguard outfits before. Prompto remembered thinking the jackets looked like something the high school marching band would wear, but when all four of them were changed (he took over watching the stewpot for Ignis while he went to dress, stealing a kiss in the process), he found himself lost for words. They looked... serious. Official. Ready for duty.

Dinner was consumed in a companionable silence. Far off, the occasional sound of some daemon's roar or screech could be heard, but the sounds seemed unimportant here. Once they were done, Prompto gathered their plates; he would have gone to wash them, but Gladio caught his eye and shook his head.

_We're not coming back_ , Prompto thought. His heart stuttered around the realization.

* * *

(Noctis fumbled out a final speech to them. It was the end of everything, Prompto knew.)

* * *

Sleep, and waking, and the inevitable march to Insomnia. Daemons stepped into their path, slithered out of the ground ahead of them; each was cut down and left behind as the minor inconvenience it was.

Prompto hadn't been back across the bridge to Insomnia since they'd left it ten years earlier. The city was dead, though a few improbably-working lights still flickered here and there. It didn't make sense until Prompto noted that each remaining light was a few feet away from the last, and that the four of them were being led, inexorably, to the Citadel.

_So be it_. He gritted his teeth and kept pace with Ignis. If they died, they'd have done their duty to Noctis, to Lucis, to Eos.

Except that Noctis had to fight Ardyn alone. Even if he'd wanted to, Prompto wouldn't have been able to help; the two took to the skies almost at once, leaping effortlessly high above as they came at each other.

"What's happening?" Ignis asked.

"It's like the trial of Leviathan back in Altissia," Prompto said. "Noctis -- he's airwalking, going after Ardyn. I can see the Armiger around him, but... Ardyn has his own, somehow. It's red, not like Noctis's. They're--" A distant crash. "That was Noctis. Ardyn threw him into a building. Now Noctis is going after him. I can't see them--"

Beside them, Gladio's fists flexed uselessly. "Finish him," he muttered, as if the far-off Noctis could hear him somehow.

"He's got to end it swiftly," Ignis said. "Ardyn will take control of the battle if he doesn't."

A streak like a meteor across the sky: "I think he's got it," Prompto said, and then, "Oh gods, here they come--"

And sure enough, Noctis was bearing Ardyn down, down to the traffic circle outside the Citadel where they had, only minutes before, defeated Ifrit with the help of Shiva and Bahamut. Prompto couldn't hear what Noctis said, but he saw Ardyn's head shift, that oily smile still in place even when Noctis drove his father's sword into Ardyn's body so hard it moved on the concrete.

It still wasn't over.

* * *

"Walk tall," Noctis told them, and: "Thank you for everything. I love you."

As he ascended the steps of the Citadel for one last time, the ground began to shake. Prompto wiped away his tears and turned, with Ignis and Gladio at his side, to face the gigantic daemons pulling themselves up out from the ground.

"For Noctis," Gladio said.

* * *

When the end came, it was in a brilliant shaft of light that momentarily whited out Prompto's vision.

He'd stumbled to his knees, an iron giant's hand pressing him to the concrete. _This is it_ , he thought. _Love you, Ignis, I'm so sorry, so--_

With the flare of light came the absence of pressure. Stunned, Prompto fell over anyway.

"Prompto!" he heard Ignis shouting, heard footsteps coming toward him. A moment later, Ignis was there, reaching for him, and he blinked up at Ignis. The light was fading, now, but even as dazzled as his eyes were, he could see Ignis and the concern and worry on his face.

"I'm OK," he said. "I'm-- I'm OK-- Where's Gladio?"

"Over here." Gladio stumbled to them, sat heavily on the concrete. His face was impassive, smeared with dirt and daemon-ichor, but his eyes were shining. Prompto gave up trying to stand and turned to look at the Citadel.

"He did it." 

"The Starscourge is gone," Gladio said with a nod.

"And so is Noctis." Ignis's tone was reverent, regretful. Gladio took a shaking breath, buried his face in his hands.

Prompto didn't know how long they sat there, as if waiting for something to happen. When it did, he almost didn't realize it at first. It was Ignis, of course, who could tell: his senses had grown so much to compensate for the lack of eyesight that he was the first to feel the change in temperature, the growing warmth, the shift in the very air -- as if the planet was beginning to breathe again.

"Prompto," he said. "It's happening. Can you see it?"

There was a note in Ignis's voice Prompto didn't recognize. It took him a few seconds to apply memory to his words and remember. It was hope.

Between them, their hands groped for each other, met. Fingers tangled.

"I can see it, Ignis." His voice was raw; he had to shield his eyes. "The sun's coming up."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just wanted to thank everyone for coming on this ride with me. What started out as some sweet Prompto/Ignis fluff turned into almost 30,000 words of recapping the entire second half of the game. As always, your comments and kudos mean the world to me.
> 
> If you didn't see it, please go see the [lovely fanart](http://dirtyhecker.tumblr.com/post/156421334042) @dirtyhecker made for this. And if you feel like following me and my multifandom randomness, [I'm on tumblr](http://ghostoftheyear.tumblr.com).


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